The Dark Knight
by wishfulthink3r
Summary: Jon instead of joining the Night's Watch leaves Westeros in search of something. He stumbles upon the League of Shadows and becomes something he never thought possible.
1. Chapter 1

**I hope you all enjoy! Sorry I've been on deployment for so long it made me write on my phone without my computer back home. So I thought up this idea for a story. I'm on a shit ton of chapters so far. So regular updates. I'm not done with a winds of change story either. Just started this one and we'll see where it leads. It's a story that's plot is tied with the batman beggining movie, The beggining origins of Jon's training and some other parts of the story will have some of the batman begins flavor to it, but for the most part after the beggining its done. Last thing, I swear if they do one of two things. Kill of Jon because he's the heir and Daenerys grows to hate that. Make Jon the Night King, Or disband the Iron throne. I will be so done. I honestly think they will all live till perhaps episode 5 or 6 but we'll see. Either way I love me some Jon and Dany action. , Comment, Follow. Please. I think this is pretty unique so I love to hear from you guys. Enjoy!**

He was close, so incredibly close. He could see a puff of dark grey smoke protruding from the top of the tower. The tower itself looked as if it had been there for centuries. Surely not what he had expected when given the invitation. Ducard the man who visited him in his jail cell, was clear whoever was in charge of this tower controlled a great deal of respect from the criminal underworld.

The more time he spent here in these foreign lands, the more he realized just how far from home he truly was. The buildings he had become so accustomed to here were far from the ones in Westeros.

The wooden tower was an easy landmark from where he stood. The tower itself arched into the shape of a pillar, with a great number of overhangs as far as the eye could reach. Blood Red with a mixture of wooden polishing. If he wasn't on the verge of collapsing from the climb he could actually admire the craftsmanship of it.

His hands were at the point of no return. Jon reached into his tunic pocket for the flower he was tasked to find. He patted it, as if to confirm it wasn't lost somewhere on his way up. This was the moment of truth. His body couldn't take much more of this. The cold of the mountain was affecting his core right down to the bone. He never thought it were possible to be this cold. Of course since he was part northerner he had heard stories of how cold beyond the wall would be. But, since he left Westeros as a boy, he couldn't imagine it being colder than this. Ever.

It wasn't just the chill of the mountain tops that pushed his body to it's limits. The climb and trudging through the snow sent his body on the brink of collapse.

After what seemed like an eternity of frozen hell, he was coming upon the tower. He took a deep breath of anticipation. He was hoping that whatever Ducard told him about finding what he was looking for. Since he landed here in Panaj, he had heard a number of stories regarding whom Ducard was speaking for. Raj Il Son. Legends after Legends had filled his ears since he landed here. A sell sword of the highest respect, master warrior, feared by all the underworld, some even swore that he was even immortal.

Ducard had merely chuckled when he told him that. Saying "Raj Il Son uses theatricality and deception as powerful weapons.

He could see light from the inside of one of the top windows of the temple. He walked towards the massive doors of the temple. Jon unwrapped the blue flower from his pocket and pounded on the doors. Wincing as his frostbitten hands made contact with an ice covered wooden door.

Nothing. He pounded one more time but still no answer. He hit his forehead against the door. Racking sobs began to appear in his throat. If no one answered he was to surely die here. His pounding accelerated to a frenzy on the wooden door. He was begging now. He knew that.

Finally the doors began to creak open. The sound was a joy to him. He breathed a sigh of relief. At the very least he wouldn't die out in the snow. Jon straightened himself out, as the door swung open to darkness.

Jon limped forward into the unknown. The halls were filled with flickering lamps on all sides and pillars that were spaced evenly leading to a raised platform. One figure sitting at the top. Jon shuffled in, unlacing some of the outerwear so they could feel the warmth from within.

The door behind him slammed shut. Startled he unsteadily walked towards the man sitting at the top. Raj Il Son. He became nervous. Would he die here. A forgotten prince left to die in foreign lands, unknown by any westerosi. But to his people in Westeros more like a forgotten unwanted bastard given a righteous death.

"Raj Il Son?" Jon hoarsely called out.

Out of nowhere a great number of warriors of different races emerged from the shadows. Bows drawn aimed at him, others carrying swords each of them sheathed and ready to use. He freezed. Unable to even consider fighting off this many people

"Wait" a voice calmly stated

The warriors held their position, none moving even an inch. Jon looked for the whereabouts of the command. Leaning on the pillar closest to Raj stood Ducard.

Jon pulled out the blue rose and presented it to him. His hands shaking. He had to have looked a mess.

Raj began to speak in one of the languages native to these lands. He never did try to learn the language. His hopes being he would find his purpose and return to his home. Ducard began to translate once Raj was finished.

"Fear has been your guide. But now you must move forward or fear will keep you on your knees. We will help you conquer your fear. In exchange you will renounce all titles and claims of terrestrial power, renounce all the cities of mankind. You will live in solitude, become a member of the league of shadows, and become fearless."

Ducard took the flower from his palm. Tilting it in his hand and observing the petals closely. His gaze returned to Jon.

"Are you ready to begin?" He challenged.

Jon was shaking with fatigue and hunger hitting him hard. Ducard thread the flower through the buttonhole to his tunic.

Jon's eyes followed his every move. "Ready? I… I can barely-"

Ducard kicked him hard in the stomach sending Jon crashing to the floor.

"Death does not wait for you to be ready.." He slammed his heel into Jon's ribs.

He tried crawling away, he was gasping for air. The kick knocked the wind out of him, and the slam into his ribs had to have broken one of them.

Ducard stood calm. "Death is not considerate, or fair. And make no mistake, today, death is your opponent." He turned whipping his leg into a vicious kick to Jon's neck. But Jon was ready this time.

He blocked the incoming kick with a sweeping motion of his forearm. His eyes were now blazing at Ducard. Ducard merely smiled.

Jon assumed a stance. It was strange. This wasn't a sword fight. He of course had learned how to fight without his weapon. Especially since coming hear. But nothing taught to him from Sir Roderick, could prepare him for this.

Ducard struck Jon with a punch which was blocked and parried. He countered with a strike of his own. Sending a kick to Ducard's ribs which was easily batted away. The fluid motion of skill taught to him from sword fighting was on full display here.

"I see your Northern upbringing inside castle was has brought you some skill in battle. But this is not a dance."

Ducard came in close quarters to Jon. he gripped his neck tightly and delivered three powerful knees. One to his body, one to his chin, and another one to his forehead. Jon was seeing stars right now.

"Facing death you will learn the truth" Duard smashed his elbow across Jons temple sending him to the ground hard. " You are weak"

Ducard sent a kick to his ribs that were already damaged beyond belief. "You are alone." He gripped Jon's chin slamming it into the ground hard. Jon was on the verge of being out like a lite. He couldn't respond, couldn't fight, and couldn't even stand.

"And you are afraid…" Ducard crouched down to Jon's side. Jon was barely awake. His body was slowly shutting down. Not just from the fight but the cold still took its toll on his body. He wasn't afraid in this moment. If anything he welcomed the darkness. Ducard looked him in the eye. "But not of me."

He took the blue rose off of his lapel and placed it into Jon's pocket. "Tell us Snow"

The room was slowly becoming darker and darker in Jon's eyes. "What do you fear" Jon's eyes dimmed but a dragon came into his view. It's roar sent Jon to the shadows.

Winterfell

It was a heated Northern day within the walls of Winterfell. Nowhere near the heat that encompassed Kings Landing or Dorne. But certainly hot enough to feel the sweat if you were outside working.

Inside the courtyard was the young heir to Winterfell Robb Stark. He looked regal as ever watching as his younger brother Bran practice his archery skills. Next to Robb stood Theon Greyjoy, Ned Stark's ward and hostage from the iron islands. He was leaning up against the beam holding up a balcony overlooking the training grounds. He seemed to be uninterested with the teachings for a young boy such as Bran. "Stop thinking so much Bran, Just take a deep breath, Hold, then release." Robb explained placing a comforting hand on the young boy's shoulder.

Bran nodded and prepared for another shot at the target. He notched the arrow tightly against his tiny chest. Sweat beads beginning to form across his forehead dripping to his cheeks. Finally after a long wait he fired. Missing the target completely. Robb and Theon broke into muffled snorts until finally both of them released laughs into the air. Bran's cheeks began to redden in embarrassment.

From on top of the tower stood Ned and Catelyn Stark, overlooking their younger son's practice. "Which one of you was an excellent marksman at ten?" He called down to the older boys. Each of them were silenced from the look of annoyance from the solemn wolf of Winterfell.

Ned smiled at Bran who's eyes still remained glued to the ground in defeat. "Go on Bran keep trying." Bran looked up to see his father's encouraging smile and his mother's loving gaze. He nodded quickly gripping another arrow from the table next to him.

Robb and Theon remained Silent watching with anticipation. Bran pulled back hard on the bow and kept his eye glued to the target with a great deal of concentration. Bran released his breath but before he let his finger slide off the string an arrow hit dead bullseye. Bran let go of the bow and turned to see his little sister Arya with a triumphant smirk on her lips.

He looked behind him once more to see if his eyes actually fooled him. But alas they weren't wrong the first time. Robb and Theon laughed harder than before as Arya did a quick curtsy mockingly. Bran chased after her as fast as he could while Arya ran away giggling.

The boys left chuckling to themselves. Ned and Catelyn both looked on in amusement. That was always going to be their little girl. Ned could see his sister in her more and more as she aged on.

Before they could even address the humor down below to one another, they were interrupted by Winterfell's Master of Arms Sir Roderick.

"My lord." addressing Lord Stark.

"My lady" he nodded to the both of them. His hair all over the place as if he just sprinted to find them.

"Sir Roderick, what news do you bring?" Lady Catelyn asked with a smile. She may not have been a northerner by birth, but living in the isolated kingdom for so long truly gave her an understanding of those who lived and served her husband.

"Our men have captured a deserter from the Night's watch my lord. Shall I ready the horses?" He questioned. His eyes showing nothing but duty approaching them.

Ned nodded. "Grab the boys and prepare the horses Sir Roderick." Ned commanded.

Catelyn shook her head "Do you have to?" She asked

Ned nodded. "He swore an oath Cat." Ned stated, that was the end of that short argument.

When it came to honor, vows, and truth. Lord Eddard Stark held much firmer than the rest of the seven kingdoms. That was what differentiated the North from all others. Honor and truth. Though Ned hadn't been always truthful. There was lie that would haunt his every dream.

"Law is the law my lady." Sir Roderick remarked.

"Tell Bran he's coming as well." Ned said.

"Ned. Ten is too young to see such things." She looked aghast by the thought of her little boy watching execution.

"He won't be a boy forever." He remarked. "And winter is coming."

The words of house stark always remained true. Winter was on its way. And one of the longest summers in recent memory certainly meant an even longer winter on the horizon. It didn't help when Jon Arryn was pronounced dead from King's Landing. Ned was beside himself. Not only was someone like Jon Arryn a father figure in his life. But now without him. Robert was coming to Winterfell for one purpose. Make him hand of the king.

At least Jon was away from Robert's madness. He knew it was close to five years. But he missed him dearly. He could only imagine the pure hatred Lyanna would scorn him with for allowing her boy to just get up and leave without anyone's knowledge. He may never know the truth. The truth of how much his mother loved him. That he never was a bastard at all. That his parents loved each other and the secret went with them to their graves.

"I'm so sorry Jon." He whispered to himself as he stared out the window of his solar.

"I pray you are safe, wherever you are." Of course no matter what Ned was prepared for if Jon should ever return. If he was still alive. He prayed he was.

He wrote a letter and sealed it shut, he trusted Lord Reed to give Jon the letter if for some reason he was unable to. It was sad to say but there were so many things ahead of that right now. For winter was coming, and he prayed to the old Gods it wasn't a brutal one.

Pajan

"And do you still feel responsible?" Ducard inquired. His eyes trained on the far mountains in front of him, it truly was beautiful. The mountains towered over everything with snow tops that looked as deep as the seas.

He lead Jon to the edge of the balcony. "My anger outweighs my guilt.." Jon said his eyes downcast.

"It wasn't your fault for being born, no matter how it occurred." Ducard said. He glanced at Jon reading his expression.

"I'm not angry or guilty as far as being born, but for how my parents acted. Because of their love it cost the seven kingdoms so many lives, resources, and honor. If they would've just told the truth it could've all been avoided..." Jon whispered out.

"It may have cost a little less lies but you never know. Your grandfather the "Mad King" could've easily ended many more lives if your father and mother told the truth." Ducard said. He turned and gripped Jon's shoulder while Jon simply nodded.

"Come" Ducard referenced down the hallway taking him to a room filled with boxes and strange looking bottles across many different tables. Ducard reached inside one of the smaller boxes and pinched a bit of powder. He flicked it toward Jon's feet.

A BANG erupted from his feet, Jon jumped back stunned. Ducard smiled good-naturedly.

"Advanced techniques of ninjitsu employ explosive powders." Ducard gestured for him to try himself

"As weapons?" Jon asked his eyes remained on the powder questionably.

"Or distractions. Theatricality and deception are powerful agents." Ducard smiled

"To be a great warrior is not enough. Flesh and blood, however skilled... can be destroyed. You have to be more than just a man in the mind of your enemies." Ducard gestured for Jon to throw the powder.

He threw it hard which resorted in a quick BANG. Ducard smirked and nodded in confirmation.

The last 6 months of training had been brutal on his body, he thought he knew soreness from sword training at Winterfell, but he was incredibly wrong. There were parts of his body he didn't know could be sore.

His fighting had improved on a whole new level, not just the way he was trained to wield a blade. But the way he saw battle, he was always taught honor in battle was important. It held no precedence in his mind now.

A fight was a fight, those who fight with honor are only damning themselves to an early grave.

He still missed home, his family, the ways of the north, the food that was provided. It was all so different here. He was no committed to the league. He was giving up his chance to be with his family again.

Today continued his sword training. He was excited. Out of all the training they got to do, he looked forward to sword training the most. Whether it be with dual wielding, basic fundamentals, skillful techniques, or overall sparring. He was turning into a top tier swordsman.

Though he was still not close to Ducard's skill level.

Jon and Ducard circled each other. Jon carefully positioned each foot as best as he could. Being on a frozen lake certainly upped the risks of injury.

"You can fight six men, we can teach you how to engage six hundred." Ducard stated still spinning his sword in his grasp tightly.

"You know how to somewhat disappear from the eyes of nobles and bounty hunters? We can teach you to become truly invisible"

Their swords were poised and ready to strike at any moment. Jon's eyes were determined.

Strike,strike, parry, counter, block, strike strike. The blows were coming in flurries. Consistently getting faster and faster. Ducard went for a side swipe of Jon's face.

Jon caught the blow between the three blades connected to his glove. Jon slid left disconnecting the blade. His breath was steaming across the lake. His sweat was almost frozen to his cheek despite the heat building from the battle.

Ducard swiftly struck Jon, he raised his sword to block but from the force of the blow he slid 3 feet away.

"Always be mindful of your surroundings"

Jon ignored the lesson and continued on, he swung hard. But this time his opponent was ready, Ducard lifted his gauntlet catching his blade this time. He brought Jon in close. "The cause of the rebellion was not your parents fault." He smirked

Jon's eyes became furious. He pulled with all his might to free his sword. Jon's anger becoming almost tangible.

"It was your father's." As Ducard pushed forward trapping his sword even more to his gauntlet Jon's anger was intensified. Jon pulled his sword out and lunged for Ducard.

Who's was standing patiently poised to deflect. Instead as Jon sent an upward strike to his chest Ducard caught his wrist with his gauntlet and flipped Jon like an egg.

Jon groaned in pain. "Anger does not change the fact that your father failed to act." Ducard sneered.

Jon sat up on his knees glaring daggers at his opponent. "The mad king was the reason! He burned my grandfather and uncle alive!" He shouted furiously.

"And would they have went to King's Landing if your father had told the truth? And when the war raged on. Was he prepared to act or did he full to the hands of Robert Baratheon? Would that have stopped you?" Ducard tested his steps sideways almost daring him to attack.

"I've had training." Jon whispered out standing to prepare for Ducard's swing.

"Your training!" Ducard bellowed swinging his sword hard knocking the sword from Jon's grasp. Jon's breathing calmed. Listening intently.

"Is nothing! The willingness to take control of the situation is everything. Your father trusted his prophecies, it's logic behind every move he made. He thought he could predict what was to come. And when something went against what he foresaw he failed to act which cost him his life!"

Jon stopped and calmed down completely taking in what he said. Taking it all to heart.

"Can Westeros be saved? Or is it another region ready for the ailment that struck Valaryia?" Ducard mused.

Jon shook his head. "You can't believe that. It's not beyond saving." Jon said with all the conviction he had in his heart.

"Is it? Or has its time come?" Ducard calmly questioned.

Jon jumped into actions. Jumping across Ducard's swipe of his sword running towards the sword he lost during the fight.

Gripping his sword Ducard swung downward toward Jon's neck. While Jon grappled his legs pulling him down to the snow. Jon stood on one of his knees, and pointed his sword inches from Ducard's neck.

Ducard froze with his hands towards his side. Jon smiled with triumph. "Yield"

Ducard smirked "you haven't beaten me." Jon's triumph turned to a look of questionable wonder. "You sacrificed sure footing for a killing stroke."

With that Ducard merely tapped the ice with the edge of his blade breaking it apart sending Jon into the darkness of the water.

Ducard and Jon sat by the fire, the flames bringing warmth to Jon's frostbitten handed. Ducard added more tinder to feed the fire. Jon sat in the snow shivering. He rubbed his arms violently trying to keep the hypothermia from hitting him.

"Rub your chest, your arms will take care of themselves." Ducard suggested.

Jon nodded in understanding and began warming his chest up.

"You have strength born of years of grief and anger Snow. The strength of a man denied vengeance"

"You are stronger than your father." Ducard merely stated still poking at the flames.

Jon frowned."You didn't know my father. I didn't even know my father"

"But l know the rage that drives you. That impossible anger strangling the grief... ...until the memory of your loved one is just... ...poison in your veins. And one day, you catch yourself wishing the person you loved had never existed... ...so you'd be spared your pain." Ducard muttered out. It was obvious he was feeling some sort of emotion.

" l wasn't always here in the mountains. Once, l had a wife. My great love. She was taken from me. Like you, l was forced to learn there are those without decency... ...who must be fought without hesitation, without pity. Your anger gives you great power. But if you let it, it will destroy you... ...as it almost did me."

Jon reacted at that. His eyes almost coming to a question mark.

"What stopped it?"

Jon asked so ready for something he could do.

"Vengeance" Ducard stated matter of factly

"That's no help to me." Jon muttered disappointed

"Why Snow?"

"Why could you not avenge your parents?"

Winterfell years prior

In the training yard Jon and Robb were sparring heavily. Each of them huffing and puffing, heads of sweat dripping down their faces. Though they both were tired it was obvious by the bruises who held the advantage.

"I'm on the verge of collapsing Snow." Robb laughed between breaths.

Jon smirked "I can do this all day."

Jon lunged forward pushing Robb with each swing of his sword. Robb barely holding on before he kicked Robb in the gut which sent him over the bench behind them.

Jon smiled in victory and began to walk away before Jon heard sir Roderick call for a maester.

"Lord Robb has been knocked unconscious someone grab maester Luwin!" He yelled.

Jon was mortified and quickly ran over. He saw Robb hit a stone on his fall down. Tears began to form in his eyes as his brother lay hurt.

Sir Roderick gripped his shoulder as the Maester appeared. "Don't stress lad, it was just an accident. You both were pushing each other too hard. I should've jumped in before something like this happened." He calmly stated. "Will he be okay Maester?" Jon's voice wavering.

"He should be okay little lad. He just needs some rest and he'll be okay, nothing but a bump. I can tell it wasn't a hard blow." The maester smiled reassuringly.

Before he could respond Lady Stark ran over as fast as wind. "What happened?!" She shouted caressing her son's cheek as he lay on the bench propped up.

"Just a training accident my lady. I'll have him up and better within the hour." The maester replied

Lady Stark glared at him..

Jon shrunk back into submission. "It was you wasn't it you spiteful bastard!" She shouted angrily. Jon tried explain himself but she wouldn't have any of it.

"Don't speak bastard! You and your jealousy of Robb's position over you sent you to hurting him!" She screamed.

"I'm sorry" Jon whispered as tears poured down his cheeks. He ran off into hiding. As the others tried calming her down.

Later that night after Robb had woke he apologized profusely. Robb laughed it off saying how dumb he was being. He did say he wanted payback in the training yard whenever he was done nursing his headache.

Jon was relieved to say the least. Especially considering how much he loved his siblings. Even Sansa whom ignored everything he did.

Jon was in his room getting ready for slumber when lady Catelyn burst through the door. "You will stay quiet and not speak unless I say." She whispered harshly.

Jon shocked by her sudden entrance just nodded dumbly.

"I don't care who your mother was, I don't care that your father is my husband, if I see you making yourself known to the public as more skilled than my son. There will be consequences. I want you gone and out of my life and the lives of my children. You're a terrible influence on them... but what could be expected of a bastard."

She glared at him. The roaring fire in Jon's room flickered. Jon was beyond tears at this point. He was beyond words of apologies. He was beyond caring at this point. He only nodded to stop the barrage of personal attacks.

"I swear to all seven gods that you will never inherit anything in Westeros. That for as long as you're here you will remain subjugated to lesser things. And when the day comes that your father decides it's time for your future to be decided... you will leave these lands or join the watch. It is far more than you deserved." With her little speech done she left his room. He never spoke to lady Stark ever again. For two nights later Jon overheard his father speak of his mother.

"I'm sorry Lyanna. Jon deserves far more than I can give him, but I can't make him a prince and the only way to protect him is to send him to the watch away from Robert's prying eyes..."

To this day he still couldn't believe it. He thought he must have heard wrong. Then "I wish I could do more for you and Rhaegar's heir. But there's nothing else I could ever do."

Jon's whole word was shattered that day, accompanied by Lady Stark's rant, he realized vengeance for his parents would never occur. But he needed to leave. He needed to find his way. He took a horse and stowed away on a ship from white harbor that night. To God knows where.

"What were you seeking when you left Westeros?" Ducard inquired. Shuffling the twigs to brighten the fire back up.

"To lose myself, I felt helpless as Jon Snow "The bastard of Winterfell", and I never wanted any connection to the Targayen family name. So what need is their for a unknown prince?" Jon said.

"We will fine use for you Snow. That much I can promise you."


	2. Chapter 2

**I apologize for the long wait for the next chapter, I've been on leave with my fiancé and my family and friends. I wanted to spend as much time with them as I could without any interruptions. The updates will be a lot quicker at the very least. I'm disappointed a lot with season eight as most people are. Not so much with the story lines but with how little character development they gave that led dany to turn into her father, or Jon's true heritage reveal to his family and the outcomes that followed. I knew that the ending would never be truly happy. I mean that's just how Game of Thrones was. Doesn't mean I wont stop enjoying Jon and Dany being together and the whole fanfiction as a whole when it comes to those two. I'm disappointed so much with how Jon literally didn't even need to know about his heritage as it didn't really play that much of a difference in the plot. I mean with some parts it did obviously. But I doubt Jon could have saved Dany from her own madness with his love alone. It sucks but gotta move on and hope George will listen to his fans for perhaps a better ending to the story we know and love. For those who commented about how the league of shadows and Westeros would never be able to be in the same universe are dumb. The league as told from the movieverse had been around for hundreds of years dismantling corrupt empires and governments. I don't see how they couldn't at the very least be a force to be reckoned with. And plus this is fanfiction. Not real life. Yes this will be a Jon and Dany fic. But it will be a slow build up to that. I also think Jon will meet other women along the way. I will update next probably within two weeks to a month max. I appreciate the reviews and I'll also be doing a lot more work with my grammatical mistakes and flaws throughout the story. I apologize in advance for some of the mistakes that weren't found while a quick proofreading was done but I figured I'd get this out asap since I'm now back in the states and I want you all to know my story writing isn't over with. Reviews, favorites, follows, and please give feedback with what you all would like to see, what I need to work on, and what you think of this idea. Please don't trash me on this if you aren't going to give me feedback. I'm not a pussy when it comes to verbal disputes lol but i'd much rather hear what I could be doing better rather than how this sucks. Thank you. and without further hindrance for the story. please enjoy!**

The long days of training turned to weeks, and the long weeks of training turned to months. And before he knew it the training was nearing completion. He had never at any point in his entire life felt this strong and capable. Other than Ducard, and Raj Il Son, there was not an opponent he was worried to face. The first of whom was becoming much easier to face now. Jon and Ducard had many close moments sparring with one another. He still had yet to beat him though.

The hardest trials for him were the resistance to torture, pain, and information. He was bruised, beaten, stabbed, shot, and cursed down to the lowest forms of humanity. His body by the end was covered with scars. One in particular was visible across his eye.

That was one scar he remembered quite well. Raj told him of a plan to kill off a tyrant in a land not far from the temple. The man apparently was a known masochist. Torturing his victims harshly and without any form of reluctance. When Jon and Ducard were sent to assassinate him. They were ambushed by hundreds of armored men. Jon was struck hard in the temple before he had even had time to see if Ducard could think of a way out.

He woke to a dim torch light strapped to a table. They constantly tortured him for information. Jon refused to say anything. The first few rounds were brutal but not anything he wasn't ready for. It started with a technique called waterboarding. They simulated him drowning for almost eight minutes straight. Giving him one breath of air then continuing on with his pain. Jon still refused.

The man in a dark looking mask who conducted the interrogation looked impressed. 'I've known stronger and older war torn men who couldn't last half as long as you.' was what he told him.

Jon still catching his breath had no time for happiness or relief. 'But you will still talk no matter how strong you think you are. This is just the first day my friend.'

Day after day. From malnourishment to breaking bones. They never let him catch a breath. They knew what they were doing that was for sure. They never would bring about torture that would bring him death. His body was covered in scars head to toe. Then after weeks of this round the clock agony the man in charge had seen enough of. He unsheathed a blade and began to run it along his temple. Then cut right above his eye. It ran from the top all the way to his cheek.

He held the blade directly in front of his eye, ready to plunge it in awaiting for Jon to give in. he still refused. The man sheathed his blade and Ducard appeared from the shadows congratulating him on making it through their test. Jon funny enough wasn't angry. He knew the lengths of which he would have to be tested. Just wasn't expecting them to go through so much trouble. That scar stayed with him.

After a month of recuperation, he was back to training.

He and Ducard were inside the large courtyard of the temple. There stood many recruits brawling with all kinds of different weapons. Towards the end of the yard stood a fifty foot wall. Many recruits would climb up it to train their bodies for climbing.

Ducard gestured for him to begin climbing alongside him. They scaled to the top rather quickly with a nail like pick that would embed itself in the wood, the contraption was strapped to their wrists and feet. "A ninja who is worth his trade will tell you becoming invisible is less about the hiding and scaling than it is patience and determination." Ducard said

Jon nodded in understanding. He had learn so much of becoming a shadow amongst men. If he so wanted he could disappear and reappear whenever he chose to.

"We will test your true patience here. The longest anyone has ever stayed up here is two hours time. Let By the end of the two hours they were sweating a great deal. Their bodies beginning to buckle from the stress on their muscles. Ducard smiled at him. "I believe you are ready to lead these men Snow."

That was what he wanted to hear. More so than anything. To belong somewhere. Somewhere with those who were more interested in justice than lies and manipulation. And after that day on the wall he was truly ready to show Raj Il Son just how prepared he was to lead.

The night before his 'final test' as ducard put it so elegantly was sleepless. He began walking amongst the corridors of the temple, hoping his restless eyes and preoccupied mind would begin to show signs of fatigue.

He stopped and stared at a painting close by to the wooden like throne. He never once had seen any artwork of the sort throughout the temple. He looked with curious eyes. It was a woman with beautiful black hair, curled to her back. Her eyes were that of emeralds. While her skin looked as though it were caressed by the sun. Her smile from just a painting was truly stunning.

"Her name was Melisande. I had this painted the moment I learned of her death." Ducard walked towards Jon slowly. "She was everything to me, I was nothing more than a sellsword to everyone I had ever come across. Her father was a warlord who requested my services to kill the leader of a rebellion. I met her during one of my meetings with him. Shortly after I spent all my time and efforts towards winning her love and affection, which we returned."

Ducard simply smiled at the memories flooding his mind. Jon nervously smiled back. This was something he never would understand. Jon's whole life was spent avoiding the love of a woman. Mainly due to never bringing another bastard child into this word.

"She tried her hardest to convince her father that I was worth her love. Her father disowned her and sentenced me to exile in a prison known as "the pit". She took my place, there she was given nothing but torture till the day the prisoners there killed her. From that day on I gave my life Raj Il Son's teachings. So that one day criminals and tyrants could never be allowed the freedom to take what simply is not theirs." Ducard's smile vanished replaced with a solemn look of no emotion. He continued to stare at her painting.

It was a sad tale to anyone who would ever hear it. "I'm sorry, I did-" Jon's apology was cut short.

"There isn't anything to be sorry for. I stopped saying sorry and pleading for reasoning as to why I lost her some time ago. I replaced it with the will to act." Ducard gripped Jon's shoulder tightly.

They were both staring eye to eye. "Your story isn't much better, a prince whose parents were brought to an early death due to the crimes and injustice of a small number of men. Don't pursue grieving, don't pursue anger or guilt. Pursue justice. The only way we may give out justice is with the will to achieve it." Ducard let go of Jon's shoulder and walked down the corridor.

Jon's gaze returned to the painting. Would he be ready to right the wrongs committed by the unjust? Or would he be left with nothing but a memory as Ducard had with his wife?

"You have exceeded all tests given to you Snow, but today we will test if you're truly without fear." Ducard stated.

They were in a room of the temple he had never been. Every member of the league of shadows was in participation. Minus Raj Il Son.

Clad in a black armor, Jon truly felt like a shadow incarnate. His boots, gloves, armor, even his sword was pitch black.

In the front stood Ducard taking the flower he climbed the mountain with and grinding it with a pestle and mortar. He gestured for Jon to join him at the front towards a small brazier and burned the contents.

Jon watched with intrigue. "Breathe in your fears,drink them in, and face them." Ducard stated as Jon held his nose over the fumes exhuming from the flower.

Slowly being affected Jon opened his eyes and was hit by images. His mother's statue in the crypts, his mistreatment as a child, a dragon growling at him. Ducard put on his black mask and motioned for Jon to do the same.

"Why the masks?" Jon asked curiously.

As if a reply dozens of members too put on their masks, they all looked alike.

Ducard joined the crowd and immediately blended in. He could not point any of them out to be him. "To conquer your fears you must become fear...you must bask in the fear of other men... and men fear most what they can not see.

Jon walked down towards the wall of shrouded men. All at once as if it was a command they moved in synchronization keeping their swords pointed in the air. It was hard for Jon not to react from that. Especially considering the drug in his system was clearly causing him distress mentally.

"It is not enough to be a man.. you must become an idea, a terrible thought, a wraith-"

One of the men who he could only assume was Ducard pounced on his slashing at him with his sword. Jon managed to block one of the swipes but received a shallow cut on his arm. Jon looked as Ducard rolled back into the group. This was a dead giveaway who he was.

At once the group moved quickly and formed a narrow path towards the front of a room revealing a small wooden box. Jon approached cautiously.

"Face your fears" whispered out Ducard from the group.

Jon nodded slowly and opened revealing an egg... with the mark of a dragon. "Do not be frightened of your heritage this egg represents much more than a targaryen. Where we're from dragons are born with two legs not one. They also have been known to possess powers unlike anything you've ever seen. Embrace it.."

Jon nodded still hesitant. He wanted all his life to be a Stark, not a Targaryen. But he wouldn't be afraid. Not of this. Never again.

He gripped the egg and it brightened subtly to was a never ending heat the moment the egg touched his skin, sending him on his back clutching his hand. He quickly ignored the pain. Pain was relative now. The training of resisting torture and receiving blow after blow to his body had created a resistance to it. Realizing it was time to be focused he slowly turned towards the group. He thought of an idea, and planned to execute it.

He turned to the closest man and swiped his arm in the same motion as his cut. Causing his shirt to appear torn. The man didn't react.

Jon quickly moved into position behind him and waited. Ducard walked slowly down the line and noticed his trap. he pulled the man down and kept his sword to the man's neck. Ducard took his mask off. "You can't leave any sign-"

Jon pulls off his mask "I haven't" Jon said pointing his sword to the back of Ducard's neck.

Ducard smirked in satisfaction. Clapping could be heard from the top of the overhang looking over the whole room.

Jon is gestured to stand before Raj, the man though obviously was said to be the most feared and greatest warrior in the world, he certainly did look old. He began to speak in a strange language. Pouring a bottle of what Jon could only assume to be some type of strong brew. He gave the cup to Jon and a small lit candle was placed at his feet. Ducard began to translate for Raj. "We have purged your fear, we are ready to lead these men. You are ready to become a member of the league of shadows. Drink." Ducard nodded to him, it was obvious he was incredibly proud of him.

Jon tipped back the drink and all he felt was burn. 'Strong stuff' Jon thought.

"By blowing out this candle you renounce your mortal life, you renounce your claim to the cities of men, you dedicate your life to solitude.

Jon leaned down and grabbed the candle. He took a small breath of air in but paused.

"Where will I be leading these men?" Jon asked.

"You will be leading these men to Kings Landing."

Jon's eyes widened. "You want me to go back to Westeros?" Jon asked confused.

Raj stared at Jon. and began speaking again. "You yourself are a victim to the treachery of the snakes that occupy the halls of the red keep. Those in power demean those of a bastard name because of some say of a man sitting on an iron chair? You must go to King's landing. You will create allies and string together an effort to make a claim with your real father's name for you. You will have the dragon egg for proof." Ducard translated.

Jon was beside himself. "For what? You told me i was never to make a claim for terrestrial power, The dragon egg would not even explain anything of my birth." Jon stated back with a bite.

"Your egg won't be the proof, but what's inside it will. You have the blood of dragon riders that flow throughout your veins. When the time is right your egg will hatch gifting you with the power to conquer. Just as your ancestor did long ago." Ducard gestured to the egg on the pedestal behind him.

"You will help us prep the city for destruction."

Jon couldn't believe it. He looked to the ceiling as if to find a way out of here."What?!" Jon was shocked.

"When King's landing falls so too will other cities and kingdoms that have far too much iniquity amongst the people. Once that occurs man can live in solitude yet again. Fully balanced, as all things should be. "

"You can not believe this." Jon almost laughed but thought better of it.

"Your father, or uncle Ned Stark was just wrongfully executed by the bastard boy king Joffrey. You will be doing not only your family a service, but you will find vengeance for this wrong doing. Your brother rides to war as we speak, find him and gain him as an ally. With the northerners, your dragon, and our army of shadows. We will bring justice across the lands of Westeros." Ducard said.

Jon's heart almost leapt out of his throat. His father. Dead. "You never told me?" Jon whispered out. His eyes staring at the floor as if the world may shortly end.

"Your family is the league of shadows, you agreed to live in solitude until ordered otherwise. We had no reason to tell you, for it posed your mind more threat than concealing the truth would." Ducard explained uncaringly.

Jon couldn't believe it. They lied to him. Of course his uncle Ned lied to him his whole life, but he loved him. Jon loved him with all he had. He was the only father he would ever know. They lied to him. And they wanted to massacre innocents across Kings Landing simply to bring the world back to solitude? "How can we fight those who give injustice across the lands, then go and murder thousands of innocents to kill of a tyrant? That is doing exactly what my grandfather the Mad King would have done!" Jon exclaimed passionately. He looked and saw the eyes of the men in black behind him. They held no hesitancy or restraint by the words he spoke.

Ducard's eyes narrowed. "You know injustice just the same as all of us have. The league of shadows has the power to burn these corrupt noblemen and criminals across Westeros, With a dragon and our skills we could simply execute those with iniquity in their hearts, they would all cease to exist in an instant… The league calls that mercy."

Ducard replied passionately

"You'd be killing thousands.." Jon muttered out darkly.

"The hardest choices require the strongest wills." Ducard countered.

"Raj Il Son, has rescued you from the darkest corners of your own heart….All he asks in return is the obedience and the courage to do what is necessary."

His mind was made up. Jon stares at the flickering flame from the candle. He leaped into action as quick as he could. Jon released his sword hitting the top end ot the bottle spraying all over the place. The candle flame igniting the whole floor.

Ducard jumped to put out the flames as Raj lept back in surprise. "What are you doing?" Ducard almost shouted. His voice for some reason still relatively calm.

"What is necessary my friend." Jon said. He ripped his mask off and doused it in the liquid flames. Taking his sword he picked up the flamed mask and flung it on top of the destructive powder boxes. The flames hit the boxes and all Jon heard was a large BANG. Wood shattering everywhere, flames everywhere. Boxes with powders still going off taking out wooden beams holding up the temple.

During the distraction Jon hit Ducard hard with the hilt of his blade knocking him out. Raj was going to pursue Jon but debris from the explosion fell fast crushing him. Jon ran into the flames almost as if he was unaffected. Grabbed Ducard and flung him and himself through the screen door. They slid down the mountain side. Jon rushing to grab Ducard before he could slide off the mountain.

Jon grabbed his hand while they slid and Ducard dropped. Jon screamed loudly. His arm almost popping out. But he would not let Ducard die. With all his strength he pulled him up with one arm and through him into the snow pile next to him.

While he made sure Ducard was alright. It appeared the other recruits were vanquished. The flames beginning to tower over the mountain tops. 'THE DRAGON EGG'

Jon sprinted as fast as he could in the snow. His boots jumping over a constant amount of settled clouds of snow. He ran into the flaming smoking mess that was the temple. He couldn't feel any discomfort. Perhaps that was from the adrenaline of the moment. But he looked and saw the room. He ran to open the chest. And grabbed the egg. It began to glow brightly.

Jon didn't notice however and sprinted outside. Though nothing would be noticed. Not now. Jon sprinted outside and hauled Ducard over his back. The dragon egg he threw into his rucksack, unaware of the crack subtly forming over the surface of the egg.

The descent down was absolute agony. At times he didn't think he would survive. But he still pushed on with Ducard on his back. He made his way to a fishing village not far off from the mountain side. Giving Ducard over to a healing man. Luckily he spoke the common tongue. After making sure Ducard would wake in the near future Jon went and found himself a captain willing to transport him across the sunset sea to Dorne. Once the arrangement was made he returned one last time to issue a silent goodbye to Ducar. Though his views were deranged he still viewed him as a friend. Someone who changed him for the better.

The healer nodded to him before he left. "I will tell him that you saved his life." He called out to him.

Jon nodded curtly and made his way to the ship. They set sail shortly after as he contemplated what was to come. Ned Stark promised to keep him safe. He vowed to do the same with his family. He now had the will to act that out.


	3. Chapter 3

**So I had some inspiration for this next chapter and I hope you all enjoy it. I'll need all of you for support for this fic to be truly golden. Give me likes favorites, follows,****and comments on what I could be doing better. No Jon will not be batman lol. He will be one hell of a fighter though. and no this will not be a full on dark knight transformed to westeros cross over. Just the beginning and parts and elements from the dark knight triliogy, the rest will be off of game of thrones a song of ice and fire, and my own ideas and imagination. Though I won't be skipping out on some awesome quotes from TDK and I may throw in some Thanos quotes because I love them. lol. It'll be two weeks till the next update. enjoy!**

Arianne Martell

* * *

News of Ned Stark's death had swept the land. She of course was neutral in her feelings toward the man. He was someone who Robert Baratheon considered to be his best friend. Though he was one of the only one to show any decency towards her late cousins. The only one out of the rebels side to show any form of disgust at the murder of little Aegon and Rhaenys Targaryen.

She respected that, along with her father and uncle. But, of course he dug his own grave following the usurper. The man had drank and whored his way to an early grave according to their spies across the kingdoms. Now on the Iron throne was Joffrey Baratheon. A Lannister in all but name. If what Ned Stark said about the king was to be believed, he was nothing more than a bastard with no claim to any throne or land across Westeros. This was the opportunity that house Martell had been waiting for.

That she had been waiting for. The Iron throne was ripe for the picking. The northern armies were marching against the Westerlands. Stannis and Renly Baratheon were gathering forces. Each of them claiming dominion over the throne. Four armies battling for the throne. Well the north more so for justice than the throne.

This was their chance. She was to see her father Doran and her Uncle Oberyn. At the very least the topic of alliances would come to fruition. It was time for the Martells to play the game of thrones.

She got dressed rather quickly though always making sure to appear beautiful amongst the lords and ladies of Dorne. The quickest way for loyalty was through lust and seduction. Her uncle and her both were gifted with this ability. She would say she used it quite more often than her uncle ever did.

"Ahh beloved niece, come.." Oberyn gestured to a seat next to him. The room was filled with all the lord's and ladies of Dorne. Even second sons and daughters amongst the group came into view. Her gaze landed on Gerold Dayne. A handsome man with a strong reputation for battle. Though nothing compared to his cousin. Ser Arthur Dayne. "The Sword of the Morning". "Dark Star" was someone she could very much see herself having fun with. His face was paler than most, but his hair was uniquely beautiful with silver strands to his shoulders. One stubborn lock dark as midnight. His reputation was also something she found to be attractive. Uncle Oberyn had always said how swiftness in battle often led to moves in the bedroom.

She sat down and payed more attention to her surroundings. Fun would have to wait at the moment. "Doran I understand your reluctance to choose sides at the moment. But, don't you think now is as good a time as any to strike. The Kingdoms are facing a war far more dangerous than the rebellion! We always pride ourselves on our battle prowess why not ally ourselves with Renly, Stannis, or Robb Stark?" questioned Trebor Jordayne. One of their many vassals amongst the meeting.

Oberyn scoffed. "You would have us follow two men who helped put an end to my sister and her children? I'd sooner trust the kingslayer over the two brothers who backed a child murderer." Arianne winced a bit at that.

It was no secret to anyone that her uncle was someone who took her aunt's death to heart far more than anyone else. He was so close to aunt Elia and the mere inclination of dishonoring her memory was a viper's poison.

"What of Robb Stark? Is there any word of their forces? Or his status as a bachelor?" Doran calmly questioned to his lord's. The group remained silent. Trebor more so than anyone since her Uncle's exclamation.

Oberyn took a sip from his wine chalice. "As far as I know the new Lord of Winterfell has gathered all his forces and plans on taking on Lord Tywin head on… He is nothing but a green boy. No experience or knowledge yet enough to take on the old lion…" Oberyn calmly stated.

Doran nodded but continued his questions. "Is he yet betrothed to anyone?"

"Not to my knowledge. No." Oberyn replied shaking his head.

Was this who she was to be marrying. A northern barbarian for a husband. She had to be honest with herself, it was not a marriage she would be excited for. The northerners were almost direct opposites to Dorne. Not just in lands, but in culture and battle. The Starks though powerful and more so noble than just about any other house across Westeros, were too honorable for her taste.

"You plan to marry her off to the wolves?" Oberyn gestured to Arianne. Her father finally laid eyes on her, and to her relief he seemed reluctant.

Her father sipped his wine. He paused in thought. She always had a rough relationship with him. Since she was a little girl she was drawn to him. Whether it be a scrape from a fall to learning of her kingdoms she would rule. She always seemed to look up to him. Until she learned of his plans to hand Dorne to her brother Quentyn. He was nothing special. Average looking and lacked the spine to rule Dorne. Since then she was at odds with her father.

"No, I plan to see how these "kings" do on a battlefield before I decide anything else. At the very least send a raven to this green boy. Let us see if he has even the mind to ally himself with any southern armies before we decide on an alliance. If that is all… You are all dismissed. I would like to speak to my daughter and brother alone." Doran said his eyes remained glued out the window of his palace.

The lords and ladies all nodded. It was strange at the very least, it seemed as though the Martells were the only ones with an opinion on where to go or what to do with war on the horizon. She couldn't help but feel the stare of Ser Gerold as he walked out of the chambers. She glanced his direction and caught him staring. She smirked before returning her attention back to her father and uncle.

Once they all had left it was nothing but silence across the decorated halls of her father's council chambers. "You've received word on the Targaryen boy I take it?" Her uncle broke the silence.

'Targaryen boy? Was he referring to the beggar king?' Arianne pondered.

She quickly looked Doran's way. To see a nod of confirmation. "Killed by a dothraki Khal." Doran stated without much emotion.

Her silence would not hold. "You were planning on an alliance with the Mad King's son." She didn't ask. She knew this to be true. She would have been queen if that was their plan. It all made sense to her now. Why she was to passed over to rule Dorne. She would have been queen of the seven kingdoms.

Doran nodded along with her uncles look of confirmation. "For now my daughter, I ask you to remain vigilant and be prepared. I would prefer to stay out of the coming wars. But I see this maybe our only chance at justice." Doran once again calmly replied. "You will go to starfall with Ser Gerold, he will protect you until a decision is made. I ask you remain sharp of mind. You maybe marrying for a throne far sooner than you think. I ask this of you not to take you away from your family but for protection. With these wars coming no one is safe. Not even Dorne."

Arianne nodded. She was grateful. Her whole opinion of her father was reversed back to her childhood days. And now she may get her wish to bring the Dornish back to power.

"Prepare to leave at sundown. Your uncle and I have much to discuss, and I fear it is not at all going to be a pleasant conversation."

Arianne nodded in understanding and left that day for starfall. Unbeknownst to her a certain dark knight would be landing shortly after she arrived.

Jon Snow

* * *

The two month long voyage had been truly a shit excursion to say the least. Of course the league had prepared him for all terrain and any situation that was to arise. His Stark side may have came first after his first week at sea though. He missed solid ground. The rocking and smells of salt and fish was enough to make his innards implode. Not only that but he felt anxious. There was no doubt his brother was going to war. If his uncle was executed wrongly, there was nothing that boy king could do to keep the peace. He wasn't nervous for battle. He was no longer some green boy awaiting battle for glory and honor. There was no honor when blood was to be spilled. Only survival. Perhaps as a young boy Starfall would have been far more exciting to him.

Truth be told he lost his excitement for coming here when he learned of his true parentage. Rumors had spread since he was a child that Ashara Dayne could have been his mother. He would always read as much as he could of their lands and history. Hoping one day to see his mother's home before he passed. Her story was tragic. Suicide after Lord Stark brought down her brother on the battlefield.

It always made him wonder as a child when he heard the rumors. If he was somehow related to Arthur Dayne the greatest swordsman to ever put on the golden cloak of the kingsguard.

Now knowing the full story, he doubted he would be able to speak with the Dayne's so easily if they knew the truth. Once he arrived at the docks he handed over a bag of gold to the captain for thanks. Which wasn't well received. The man was terrified and returned the gold back to his hands quickly. "We only wish to have good graces with your master Raj." was what he told Jon.

Jon took his gold back in stride and was greeted by the guards of Starfall once he left the too seemed hesitant to speak with him. It was strange. Perhaps the legend that was the league had only made it too Dorne and Essos due to reputation alone. He of course had never heard of such a tale until he crossed the sunset sea. 'I suppose it doesn't really matter anymore. Raj and the league are gone.' Jon thought as he followed the guards to where he assumed was the lord or lady of Starfall.

Jon had remained silent throughout his walk down the large corridors. The men hadn't even asked to hand over his weapon. He of course would have gladly gave them some source of relief but they never asked. Only told him to follow them. His sword was apart of him, but never did he feel naked without it. He was trained by the best to fight with or without any weapon.

They opened a door that led into a fairly large room of the castle. The walls decorated with the Dayne banner. A White Sword and falling star crossing the color of Lilac. There was cushioned seats and tables standing where he could see. The seats were currently occupied by two women of breathtaking beauty. One could be immediately recognized as a Dayne. Her hair was as dark as midnight accompanied by a deep colored eyes which matched the banners that surrounded the room. She wore a tight dress which also matched their house colors.

'So this woman was obviously in relation to the late Ashara Dayne. Lord Stark rarely ever spoke of her. Only in passing.'

The rumors of her beauty was almost hard to believe. But seeing her kin sitting before him. Those curious lilac eyes staring at him with a gentle comfort. He had a hard time not believing the tales. Next to her sat a woman he couldn't keep his eyes off of. If he knew beauty before, he would never know it again if it wasn't her. She stared back at him. She was as dornish as they came. Her skin kissed perfectly by the sun. Dark black curls cascaded down her back like a waterfall, On her head was a tiarra of gold with a dark ruby in the center. Her full lips smirking at him. She obviously knew what he was gazing at. How could he not? A light red silk gown leaving not much to imagination. Her body was to die for. Full breasts, tanned legs, and hips that seemed almost as dainty as glass.

Behind them was a man whose palm rested upon the hilt of his blade. He was glaring quite fiercely at Jon. Jon's expression remained uncaring. He gave them no smile, just a solemn respectful face.

The guards finally broke his observation of the three. "My lady, and princess, we apologize for the interruption but we were ordered to bring any suspicious travelers to you during these times of war." The older guard announced nervously.

The Dayne girl narrowed her eyes at Jon. "under whose orders captain? And I fail to see why he remains to be armed in the presence of our princess." She glared sharply at the elderly guard.

'Princess?' Jon thought with confusion. He knew not much of Dorne but the only people with titles of prince or princess were of the Martell family.

The mentioned princess only smiled, She waved off the failure of the guard quite nonchalantly. "Fear not my lady, I have your kin to see to my protection…" She paused smiling coyly at Jon. His face remained passive but his brain had to be close to exploding at her beauty. "Besides I'm sure this weary traveler means us no harm."

Jon unbuckled his scabbard from around his waist. Passing it off to the older man. "I expect this back before I depart, along with my belongings." Jon said his eyes never leaving the guards.

"Fear not my lord, Your belongings will be returned to you once I learn why you have come to Starfall." The Dayne girl smiled good naturedly.

Jon smiled and bowed. " I am no lord my lady, only a traveler hoping to return home." Jon's accent must have tipped them off because their eyes quirked with curiosity. Out of all the things Jon had to give up to join the league. His northern lilt was not one of them.

"You may leave now captain, I'm sure Ser Gerold would have no issue offering protection if something were to arise." She replied. The guards quickly left not even looking back.

"May I have your name traveler?" She asked still smiling gently.

"Jon Snow my lady." Jon replied quickly. The princess eyed him up and down. He could feel it.

"Well I am Allyria Dayne, and beside me sits the future ruler of Dorne Arianne Martell. I can tell you hail from the north. Your accent most certainly gives it away. What is a northerner doing so far from home if you don't mind me asking." Jon was going to reply before the princess jumped in.

"Not just any northerner. You're Eddard Stark's bastard son…" Arianne smirked. "My father had received a raven years ago of your disappearance."

Jon nodded. "That was many years ago princess. I only wish to return to my brother and help him seek justice against my father's death." Jon said without any emotion. His eyes glancing to Allyria she did not seem happy to hear who he was.

"You know your father killed my brother Arthur in combat?" She glared at him. Her tone shifted from sweet to deadly rather quickly. He glanced at Ser Gerold he too was glaring his hand never leaving the hilt of his blade.

Jon only nodded "I do."

"And you find it perfectly fine to step foot in my lands after that?" She tested

"My father defeated your brother in combat not in his sleep. After your brother's death he brought your brother's remains and your families' blade Dawn back to here out of respect." Jon paused seeing those lilac eyes suddenly becoming less dangerous and more accepting.

"I too come out of respect not malice. My father only spoke of Ser Arthur with the utmost honor and saw him as a true knight. I grew up to stories of your brother's skill in battle. I looked up to him. No matter who he fell to." Jon finished.

Allyria smiled. "You truly are your father's son. I apologize, before she died my sister only spoke good things of your father. She told me as a young girl that the Stark's held more honor than any house across Westeros. I'm truly sorry for your loss Jon Snow and you are most welcome to stay here in my keep till you find passage home to your brother." Lady Dayne smiled.

Jon smiled back, "Thank you my lady, your generosity is most kind and well received."

Allyria nodded "You will have quarters prepared for you and a bath drawn. Join us please for supper. As long as my princess sees it as okay?" She looked to the princess amusingly.

Arianne smiled at him. Her eyes never leaving his. "But of course. I would love to hear where you have been since you left Westeros Jon Snow."

Jon smirked back. It seemed things were going to be quite interesting tonight.

Allyria Dayne

* * *

This Jon Snow was certainly an enigma. He of course had the Stark look by the way her sister once described it to her, His dark black locks, solemn gaze, and long face. But at the same time he had a different set of features that belonged to him as well. The curvature of his brow, his sharp jawline, and of course his lips. They almost gave off features that resembled her family. That of course was out of the question though.

Her sister told her all about her little crush on the late Ned Stark. It all started off as innocent dancing. She at the time had an affair with Ned's brother Brandon. But of course from what she knew of Brandon Stark he was a known bed warmer to many different women. Whereas his brother was an honorable man. Known only for his shy attitude. Ashara had told her how nervous he was to dance with her, and dancing had only led to kissing. She told her if things would have been different Ned Stark would have been her choice for someone to be betrothed to. He refused to dishonour her and promised to come see her again.

Unfortunately the next time she saw him was only out of true tragedy. She had lost Brandon's babe that she was left with, and her lover was burned alive alongside his father by Aerys Targaryen. Ned's betrothal to Catelyn Stark and his bearing of Arthur's death was too much for her.

To this day she could never replace the void left by her sister. But seeing this man brought back so many memories of her. Not from his looks, but from his demeanor and honor he carried. She was reminded of the tales of the quiet wolf her sister held so dearly to her heart. If he looked anything like Ned Stark, she could certainly understand her sister's infatuation.

This Jon snow was very easy on the eyes. Not just his looks but the way he carried himself. It wasn't just her who noticed either, she glanced over at the Dornish princess. She saw the way Arianne looked at him. She knew her weakness was handsome warriors. Gerold knew it too. Since they arrived at Starfall Gerold had tried his hardest to get Arianne to notice him.

It seemed now his luck had ran out. Her princess had eyes for this northern bastard, and she couldn't blame her. She was confused though. Why were the guards ordered to bring an outsider to her, and by whom. The captain came when Jon snow left to bathe.

"My lady." He bowed his head.

"Captain who was it that ordered this man to be brought before me, and why do you seem so nervous around him, he seems harmless." She smiled.

The captain's eyes went wide. Arianne and Ser Gerold seemed to notice as well. "M-my lady, your father once told us before his death a land across the sunset sea. He told us to proceed with caution and inform the lord and lady of Starfall immediately. We were informed by a local tradesman the ship carrying this Jon Snow came from a land months a way by sea. It came from Pajan." He nervously replied. She furrowed her brow. 'Pajan? I recall a conversation with her brother about some land far away, but he made it out to be a myth only legends and tall tales.'

"What did my father say these dangerous combatants from Pajan as you so eloquently put were described as?"

"He told us of to be weary of Pajan's inhabitants...We all thought he was jesting bu-but your father believed the stories my lady.." He was almost shaking in his armor.

"And what stories are those Captain?" Arianne questioned curiously. She seemed incredibly interested in what he had to say.

He bowed his head. "Stories of the league of shadows.." The man almost whispered frighteningly

The two ladies both seemed confused. It was obvious they had never heard of such a name. Though Ser Gerold wasn't. He began laughing.

"Those are nothing but myths and legends Captain, of that i can assure you." He continued chuckling. The captain did not look convinced. Now she was curious.

"What legend Gerold?" She asked intently. Ser Gerold ceased his laughing. He walked around the cushioned couch to sit across from them. He poured himself a goblet of wine.

"They are nothing more than stories to frighten children. The league of Shadows are said to be a group of the world's deadliest assassins. Fearless men, who brought down empires in Pajan. Their leader was said to be someone who could never die. Someone who struck fear in the hearts of his enemies and brought down thousands of men only to disappear into the shadows from whence he came. Some say he and his warriors were what led to the fall of old Valyria. Others say he and his army of assassins are immortal"

Arianne and her were thoroughly entertained by the story. "They are nothing more than stories Allyria, just as laughable as the long night the northerners tell their children to frighten them."

"Well it's no legend to us that Bravos houses the faceless men. Who's to say the league of shadows is like them?" She questioned.

Ser Gerold was amused. "The faceless men are real because we know them to be real. The league of shadows has never been confirmed by anyone. Only whispers of sailors who travel from Dorne to some islands and back for trade.I doubt even the land Pajan even exists" Ser Gerold replied.

She was no thoroughly interested to see what this Jon Snow would say of his travels. Dinner would be quite a show to say the least.

"Well this Jon Snow seems to be quite the man, I can tell by how he carries himself." Arianne said thoughtfully sipping her Dornish Red.

Ser Gerold scoffed. "A northern savage and nothing more princess. The only Northerner capable of besting a swordsman of Dorne was just executed for treason in King's Landing." Gerold replied fiercely. He seemed almost desperate to gain Arianne's affection now.

Allyria found it to be quite amusing.

"Why not test it then? I'm sure this Jon Snow would have no problem with giving the princess and lady of Starfall a show. I would very much like to see your skill with a blade Ser... " Arianne whispered out seductively. Her hand resting on his thigh.

Gerold smirked. "Have it arranged and I will show you just why I was given the name "Dark Star" princess."

Allyria shook her head in amusement. She was no fool. This little display was only to see how well this Jon Snow carried himself. Rather than seeing Gerold's fighting prowess.

"Would that be to your liking Allyria?" Arianne questioned. Her smile was quite contagious.

She smiled back. "I'm sure this Jon Snow would have no issue with a spar before dinner. Especially given that we offered quite the hospitality to him." Allyria replied.

"Perfect." Arianne clapped to herself. "Captain see to it that Jon Snow is properly rested and inform him of our little sparring match to be held in the yard before dinner is presented." Arianne commanded.

The old captain nodded. "At once princess." he quickly exited the room followed by Gerold. He obviously was going to be putting on his armor for this. Perhaps this would be entertaining. Though if the stories of this league of shadows were true. Just what was Ser Gerold in for?

Arianne Martell

* * *

To say she was attracted to this northern bastard at first glance would be a pale comparison. He was quite beautiful. She always had fantasies of a dark knight whisking her off to bed and taking her as hard as he pleased. This Jon Snow was a walking fantasy. If that he could fight that is. But from what she could see, Jon Snow was not some Northern savage without knowledge of a fight. Her Uncle Oberyn was known as one of the most skilled fighters in the realm. He told her the best warriors are not necessarily humble but quietly confident.

She knew she was only goading Ser Gerold into a fight. He was dashing in his own way. Not the worst she could bring to bed. But seeing those dark eyes matching perfectly with his pitch black armor was enough to drive her deepest darkest sexual impulses.

She and Allyria stood from the rafters awaiting their two combatants. Jon snow stood off to the side almost bored as Ser Gerold tied his boots tightly. Apparently Snow had requested no armor if he were only to spar with Ser Gerold. Gerold agreed rather quickly to his request.

Seeing this northerner had definitely changed her mind on a betrothal to Robb Stark. If he even remotely looked like this Jon Snow. Then she would at the very least have attraction in her marriage.

The two finally entered the yard. Jon Snow had his sword still strapped to his hip. She was confused. Perhaps she misjudged him. "Till someone yields bastard." Ser Gerold grinned with confidence. Jon nodded in understanding. Unaffected by the Insult hurled at him. Ser Gerold wielded two blades. It was known throughout Dorne how the Dayne's were taught at a young age to dual wield short swords. It was something that could easily intimidate an enemy. Especially when seeing both blades be twirled so swiftly. Snow seemed unaffected.

Well at the very least they could here what they were saying. They weren't far from the action now that her and Allyria decided to descend down to the benches near the center of the yard.

"Are you going to release your sword? Or am I to be fighting an unarmed northern coward?" Ser Gerold said narrowing his eyes. Once again to her surprise Jon Snow showed no emotion at the jipe.

"I'll take your blades from you once you are through with them" Jon Snow replied.

Arianne's eyes widened 'Who was this man?'

Apparently Ser Gerold thought the same because he too looked strangely surprised. His swords were gripped tightly to his palms. And before anyone could blink, Jon Snow released a quick Jab to Gerold's face.

They both gasped. That was as quick a strike as she had ever seen. Ser Gerold gritted his teeth and swung his swords quickly in retaliation. Jon Snow positioned his hands behind his back and ducked and rolled each swing as they came for his head and torso. After three or four swings she wasn't counting Jon quickly ducked out of the way of the next swing from Gerold's right and hit him hard with his balled up fist. The strike was directed at Gerold's chest. It didn't sound gentle.

He fell to his knee but quickly got back up and swung his sword downward toward Snow's head. Snow simply moved to the side letting the blow pass him. Gerold turned again and swung both his swords one after another. Each strike caught hand to hand by Jon's palm before finally Jon caught his next strike and twisted Gerold's wrist. Ser Gerold dropped to one knee once again held tightly from Jon's hold on his wrist. Jon quickly delivered a hard kick to Gerold's ribs. Sending him into the dirt while Jon held one of Ser Gerold's blade.

'This isn't possible. I've ever seen a man move like this on a battlefield.' Jon was beyond skilled. Gerold was not the best fighter in the realm but he was most certainly one of the most skilled fighters out of Dorne, and this Jon Snow was picking him apart as though he were a child.

Ser Gerold

* * *

'Who was this man?! How is he moving like this?' Ser Gerold thought to himself as he thrusted his sword to Snow's thigh. Jon Snow quickly parried and caught Gerold's next blow coming from overhead. Snow calmly moved to the side and awaited his next move.

He had sparred with some of Dorne's greatest warrior including the Red Viper. He of course lost to prince Oberyn but it was a close match. Whatever this was, wasn't a match. It didn't even remotely describe a spar. This was a clinic. And Ser Gerold was the student watching a master work at his craft.

He quickly struck his sword towards Snow's right shoulder only for his wrist to be caught by Snow's hand. He felt the next two blows to his side as Jon Snow twirled his body awaiting for his next move. Each strike Gerold delivered was met with a calculated parry or was caught by Snow. and his body payed for it.

Gerold swung his sword sideways only for Snow to twist his body out of the way and deliver a sidekick to Gerold's ribs. Yet again he was on his knees. Sweat began to trail down his face. Whoever this boy was, he wasn't some northern savage. He was a monster.

Jon Snow

* * *

Jon was enjoying this. It was obvious from the moment he walked into lady Allyria's sitting chamber that Ser Gerold had a desire to fight him. Perhaps it was to claim victory over his families defeat at the hands of his uncle. Or perhaps it was pure stupidity. Whatever it was he had no problem putting this arrogant fool in his place. It also showed him just what to expect as far as the caliber of fighters these lands offered.

Maybe it was due to his constant sparring with Ducard, that allowed Jon to pick this man apart. It seemed as though Ser Gerold was broadcasting ever strike, ever movement, and every recovery. He knew now. Jon knew just why this seemed like child's play. It wasn't for Ser Gerold's lack of skill. Well it was in a way. But only compared to the skill Jon received from the league.

Ser Gerold from his knees thrusted yet again with his sword aimed right towards his right thigh. Jon jumped up quickly and caught the strike with the bottom of his boot dropping his body low to catch the next strike with his blade this time pushing Gerold to his feet. He would end this now.

Jon caught the next blow coming towards his shoulder yet again except instead of a kick to the ribs as Ser Gerold was expecting. Jon gripped Gerold's hand and swiped his sword across his opponents forearm. He wasn't stupid. He would never kill or truly injure this man no matter how arrogant he was. But a bit of blood wouldn't kill him.

Gerold gripped his forearm tightly. His eyes displaying fear. Jon heard the gasps of the ladies watching but ignored them. This was a fight not a dance. Ser Gerold angrily shouted as he lifted his injured forearm over his head to strike Jon. This was it. His last mistake.

Jon knew the moment his forearm was cut his strikes would decrease in speed and Jon caught the blade in his hand before the strike gained any momentum. He was wearing leather gloves but the blade certainly punctured them. Jon didn't feel the pain though as his hand gripped the blade tightly.

Ser Gerold's eyes widened in utter surprise at the gutsy move. Jon didn't allow him to ponder it as he quickly released a knife hand to his opponent's neck knocking the wind out of his mouth.

He dropped to his knees gripping his throat as Jon held his blade towards Gerold's neck. "Do you yield?" Jon calmly asked.

Ser Gerold nodded through his pain. Jon patted his shoulder as he left the training yard. Dropping Ser Gerold's blade on the ground. Leaving both the ladies to absolute astonishment. And a knight of Dorne in absolute fear.


	4. Chapter 4

**Well since I got some days off I can't help myself but want to write more, hopefully you all love the route I'm going with this. Arianne will have a roll to play in this story. But this is still a Jon and Daenerys end game. I just thought to give Jon the opportunity to meet other women, especially since Ygritte will not be happening in this story. Spoiler lol no Ygritte. Leave comments, likes, and follows. I probably will upload one more chapter before I go back to work Tuesday so be prepared for that. Maybe if I find the time I could push it to two, but I also want to make these next few chapters longer and give a lot more perspective of where Westeros will be whenever these wars come to fruition. Enjoy!**

Jon Snow

The servants and guards had been talking, that much he knew as he departed his room to have dinner with Allyria and Arianne. He heard the whispers of the servants as he passed through the halls. They all were quite interested in him, this he knew to be true.

The guards avoided him like the plague. When the captain had gave him back his sword and belongings he looked terrified. The spar apparently had only confirmed what he thought of him. Jon wasn't stupid. He could read faces and body language quite easily. They had some idea of where he came from. They knew only what whispers beyond the sunset sea had told them. He was a member of the league of shadows.

'Or used to be' Jon thought following the old man to the dining hall. It wasn't something Jon wanted the world to hear. What would his family think? The honorable Starks. His uncle would turn in his grave if he knew the truth of what he was now. An assassin. A killer. A monster.

True Jon never saw himself as that. He still followed an honorable lifestyle. He only killed when necessary. He never was an assassin at heart. But learned how to remain amongst the shadows of the dark.

They finally made their way through a set of decorated wooden doors. One painted with the Dayne sigil. The other looked to be a spear directed in the heart of a sun. The Martell sigil. He remembered learning much of Westeros's Lord's and history. It was strange, Lord Stark kept him quite educated as though he would someday be a Lord of a great house. He was no Lord.

At least he had no desire to be.

"Ahh Jon Snow, come join us!" Allyria gestured to an empty seat across from the two ladies. He smiled and nodded as he entered the halls. They both remained in the dresses he saw them in earlier. Though their curiosity had certainly increased since the morning. There were some other people sitting with them at the table. They seemed to be either wards, pages, or highborn lords and ladies. They too looked at Jon with great interest. All except one. Ser Gerold sat at the end of the table. Not once looking up to view Jon.

'Serves him right' Thought Jon as he took his seat.

The food looked amazing. Jon couldn't remember the last time he had seen a spread as such. Since joining the league he got used to minor portions of food and sustenance. The league was strict with its ways. Never over indulging oneself. Jon was grateful for the change in diet. He missed actually enjoying a meal with people to converse with openly.

He grabbed a couple pieces of strange fruit, and a cut of what he assumed was boar. He bit in and savored the flavors of the strange juicy fruit. It was to die for.

Arianne simply giggled looking at his hunger. "I assume mango isn't a common food to be had in the north?" She questioned with amusement. He looked up to see her holding her laughing eyes.

Jon blushed from his table manners. "I apologize, it's been a long while since I've had a large spread too choose from princess. And no, fruits are rarely a good the north brings in through trade." He smiled wiping his mouth from the juices.

The princess merely nodded. She too bit into a mango her eyes never leaving Jon's. 'She's doing that on purpose' Jon thought seeing the way her lips sucked gently on the yellow delicacy.

Jon averted his eyes to Allyria. She seemed intent on asking him something. Her eyes mirroring confusion and a questioning quirk of her eyebrows. "So Snow.. you gave us quite the show earlier.." She stated her eyes glancing to the quiet Ser Gerold. He looked up partially only to hide his face back into his food. Though he seemed to be listening too.

"Where did you learn to fight with such skill? I've only heard such prowess in battle belonging to my late brother or Arianne's uncle Oberyn." She asked. Jon kept his eyes on his plate. Not wanting to give away his pride. Ser Arthur was one of his many heroes growing up. The stories that came with the Sword of the morning were nothing but illustrious. His uncle told him how luck was what one him the day against Allyria's brother. Not skill.

"I've had many teachers over the years my lady.." Jon said as vaguely as possible.

"Were any of these teachers you mention from Westeros?" She asked quizzically. She was testing him. She must have been briefed of the captain's nerves around him. At least that would explain why a northern bastard was dining with a lady of Starfall and a princess of Dorne.

Arianne was listening quite intently. She seemed quite interested to hear some stories. Then again she was the one who mentioned hearing his endeavors since he left Winterfell.

"I learned as a young boy from Ser Rodrik Cassel. He was our master of arms to myself and my siblings. But I learned a lot from the teaching of a man named Ducard. He was a former sell sword across the sunset sea in a land called Pajan." Jon answered.

Allyria's eyes widened as did Arianne and Ser Gerold. "I was led to believe Pajan was merely a mythical place."

Jon was kicking himself. How could he let that piece of information slide from his tongue. These people only know of Pajan through rumor and stories. Not through history books and teachings of Maesters.

"I had not learned of Pajan till I landed there. It's a different land filled with different people. They are very weary of outsiders and the journey alone was long and hard." Jon said trying his hardest not to notice a certain feeling of a foot against his leg.

He kept his mind on the conversation but it didn't stop him from glancing towards the princess. She was sipping her wine but her eyes were glued to him. 'What the hell is she doing?!' Thought Jon.

This was mad. He was a northern bastard to their knowing. Why would a princess secretly send signals of flirtation to him. He was nothing to them. Of course he was born a prince. But she didn't know that.

"I'm sure that was quite the journey. Pajan's warriors must be renowned if what I saw in that training yard is anything to go by." Allyria complimented. She was really sweet.

Jon continued to remain fixed upon their conversation but the more they conversed the more Arianne had her fun. Her foot travelled from his ankle all the way to his knee. She never once gave any indication to anyone of what transpired under the table.

"If I may ask…" Jon started. This was why he agreed to this dinner rather than resting and leaving at first light. He needed information.

"What news of my family? Do you have any knowledge of where they are or what the north is doing in regard to my father's execution?" Jon asked his demeanor changed to that of seriousness. The others sitting at the table must have heard his question for the table got much more quiet. Only the sound of wine sipping could be heard now. Even the princess stopped her game of flirtation once she heard Jon's question.

Allyria looked to Arianne as though to see if she knew more than her. Arianne sighed. "Your brother Robb gathered his forces and makes for the Riverlands as we speak. He means to march against the Lannisters to gain justice for your father's murder. Your sisters on the other hand…" Jon's breath shortened. 'My sisters? Oh Gods…'

She seemed hesitant but continued. "Your sister Sansa is betrothed to the boy king Joffrey. She remains in King's Landing. No doubt a hostage since what transpired. War is on the horizon and I doubt they will give up a key piece of bargain with your brother's army coming for blood." She seemed to be giving Jon a look of pity.

Jon shook his head angrily. " You said sisters… What my little sister Arya?" He was leaning over the table now. He was terrified of the answer to come.

"Arya Stark I assume is with your other sister Sansa. Though reports from my father's council say whispers of her whereabouts are unknown. She may have escaped in time. But don't take my word as scripture." She quickly said.

Jon nodded. He learned a long time ago not to relay information with his emotions. But this was hard. His little wolf. Arya. She and Robb were so close to him. Robb was marching to war. And Arya was who knows where. Maybe even dead. Tears almost surfaced as he thought of where his baby sister could be. Was she safe? Was she a prisoner to the Lannisters? He quickly wiped his growing tears fast not to give away too much to the dornish.

"We are truly sorry of what's happened to your family…" Allyria said. "We know the dornish and north men don't hold much regard for one another, but we also know what it's like to lose one's we love at the clutches of tyrants and the game of thrones." She looked down saddened obviously by the memory of her brother and sister.

Arianne too looked sad. "I'll speak to my father when I can. I know our people look at the North as an ally to those who killed my aunt and cousins during the rebellion. But I also know how much hatred we hold for the Lannisters. Your father no matter who he followed during the rebellion, spoke up against the rape and murder of my aunt Elia, and my cousins Aegon and Rhaenys. For that I can speak for all of Dorne and say we would gladly ally ourselves with the kin of Lord Eddard Stark to see the Lannisters put to the sword." She determinedly spoke.

From the look of the other highborns of Dorne at the table, they all agreed quite quickly with the princesses' exclamation.

Jon smiled. "Thank you princess. When I return to my brother, I will speak to him. I know not what your father will ask for in terms of an alliance, But I think I speak for my family when I say we will need all the help we can get." Jon said with just as much passion.

Arianne smiled back. "My father mentioned me marrying your brother and joining forces. Perhaps his thoughts were held with great wisdom. Especially if what I saw in the training yard were to occur on the battlefield." She smirked.

There was the flirty princess yet again. Jon chucked. "I'm sure my brother would greatly appreciate a marriage with someone so passionate princess." Jon grasped his goblet of wine and enjoyed the taste.

Robb would be in heaven if this woman were to be his wife. Of course he would need to keep quiet with her flirting with him. But what he didn't know wouldn't kill him especially considering it was harmless banter minus her foot that once again found its way to his leg.

The rest of dinner went off without much of a hitch. He told the ladies of some of his journey, leaving out his endeavors with the league. They returned his stories with some of their own and the history and culture of Dorne. Jon truly enjoyed himself. Dorne was a place he could see himself living one day. The people were delightful if Allyria and Arianne were anything to go off of.

But now was time for him to learn more. He knew there was more this princess knew. And any information of these wars were going to be important. Jon once returned to his room dressed changed quickly out of his tunic left by Allyria's servants and put on his body armor. All black just the way he liked it. It was always his color. Jon placed a black mask over his head and sunk into the shadows.

Arianne

After having dinner, Arianne and Allyria made it back to the sitting room to talk. She was a close friend of whom she trusted. That was hard to come by. Especially given the circumstances of Westeros and Essos today. They sat quietly sipping on Dornish Red they had brought up from the kitchens. A fire was crackling on the side near her. She was warm and content. The wine bringing her warmth through her stomach, while the fire kept her skin shining in the light.

"You find him quite the man princess." Allyria broke the silence.

Arianne looked at her with a faint blush occupying her cheeks. Allyria could easily spot the looks and flush she had when her eyes would trail the dark northerner. She huffed. "How could I not. You've seen the way he looks." Arianne laughed abruptly.

Allyria giggled along with her "I don't think his looks were the only thing that you find so tantalizing." She stated. She was amused obviously. It was funny in a way. Arianne comes here hoping her father were to find a betrothal to someone other than Robb Stark, and now she would not stop imagining his own brother under her bed sheets.

"No. It's not just his looks, no matter how pretty he may be." She smiled.

"He is confident and quiet brooding. Though his confidence has an air of humbleness… I mean you saw what he can do. He seemed almost hesitant to even mention his fighting ability and yet.." She paused trying to find the words to formulate how she saw this handsome visitor from the North.

"I've never seen someone fight like that. Never. My uncle Oberyn I've seen fight. With a spear in his hand I doubt many people across Westeros could challenge him save for your a select few. But, watching Jon Snow today...I don't think he would be able to match him. I've known strong men, I've known mysterious men, I've known men who could see a chance at dying and never feel fear. I saw your cousin as one of these men. Ser Gerold is a strong fighter and up until now I've never seen fear take shape in his eyes till today. This Jon Snow is different." She mumbled out. Almost embarrassed to even utter the words.

Allyria nodded in understanding. "He is certainly different. My brother was the strongest most skilled swordsman I've ever known or seen fight. The way he moved, the way he could read his opponents, his confidence with a blade… Though Jon Snow is something far different. I don't know how he would've faired against Arthur but I guarantee Jon is someone my brother would have died to fight against."

Allyria sighed. Her brother and sister were always sore topics of discussion. She was so young when the rebellion had occurred only a small girl. But even at such a young age the pain of loss still never leaves someone.

"What are you waiting for princess? You obviously desire him, he obviously desires you. I've never known a single man who could deny you." She smirked.

Arianne giggled. "Yes you are right. Though this is why I think this Jon Snow is different. He holds his northern honor quite tightly across his heart. I flirted with him all night. Touched his leg with my own several times, and he didn't even acknowledge it. I think I may have found the first man who would not pursue me due to his honor."

Allyria was shocked. That was obvious by her mouth agape. "You rubbed his leg the whole night?!" She whispered out

Arianne simply nodded. Taking a swig of the wine before finishing her glass. "The whole dinner." She uttered.

Allyria laughed. She held her hand over her stomach as her snorts continued to echo across the room. And Arianne joined her. "Well at least you may have a chance with his brother. I'm sure they are quite similar in looks thanks to the Stark blood they share."

Arianne's laughed stopped she was hesitant to reply but figured no harm in sharing her father's plan to her friend. "My father planned on marrying me to Viserys Targaryen before he was killed by a dothraki Khal. I would bet gold on him marrying my brother off to his sister Daenerys who is in Vaes Dothrak.. While securing the north to my brother through Robb Stark." Arianne muttered out disappointed. She would've loved to be queen. If Robb Stark was anything like the Northerners reputation he would have no desire to rule the seven kingdoms through conquest. Only seeking justice for his family

"The beggar prince? I've heard stories he took after his father." Allyria frowned disapprovingly.

Arianne laughed. "He was considered to be weak if our informants were anything to go off of. I could've easily controlled his motives and his decisions." Arianne countered

Allyria nodded. "True, though your happiness would be forfeited."

"Since when have I ever needed that?" Arianne smirked.

Allyria giggled. "Well maybe you may find a simple happiness sooner rather than later." she winked.

"Maybe." She almost whispered. Her mind set to seek out a certain northerner later in the night before he departed. Perhaps he was just being civil. The north definitely would frown upon a bastard bedding a princess. But in Dorne Bastards were nothing but men and women born of passion. And passion was on her mind right now.

She thought she heard a door creak but brushed it off as the castle moving at nightfall. Unbeknownst to her a certain northerner had left the shadows and returned to his rooms.

Jon Snow

Well that was certainly interesting to say the least. He of course was flattered the beautiful divine being that was the princess found him to be so tempting. But, what he found more interesting was what she said about his aunt. She was with the dothraki, a group of savage horse lords. He was torn, Jon knew the reputation they carried. They were known across Westeros as murderers and rapists. Men who held no regard for honor and respect.

He wanted to help his aunt. He really did, but the family he already knew was in danger. They were going to war. He made his decision the moment Ducard mentioned his uncle's death. He would help the Starks. They came first before all others.

As Jon got out of his armor and jumped into his linens for bed, he heard a knock. He shook his head in annoyance. He just wanted sleep. He was setting off at first light. Jon begrudgingly opened the door. But what was waiting for him sent a shock through him. It wasn't a servant but a princess.

"May I come in Jon Snow? I wish to speak with you?" Her Dornish accent had caused his pants to stiffen as his cock rose.

Jon though attracted to her found himself doubting she only wanted to talk at this hour. Especially since she flirted with him all day and her words of attraction for him with Allyria.

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion but opened the door further allowing her entrance. He sat down and poured them each a glass of wine. Jon sipped his silently, assuming she would be the one to speak first. She seemed hesitant.

Though Jon was quite silent and unemotional, he couldn't help himself but stare at her. She was by far the most stunning woman he had ever seen and her body was on full display to him. But tonight her confidence seemed a bit lacking compared to at dinner. Maybe her words of hesitance to seduce him were true.

"I wished to ask you about your brother before you left in the morning. I wondered what he looked like, how he acts, what to expect. I was just curious.." She trailed off.

Jon's suspicion faded as he realized she just wanted to know someone she may have to marry in due time. He smiled. "He is a good man, he's honorable, a good judge of character, and an excellent swordsman. He also was one of the few to see me as his brother rather than his father's mistake. For that I see him as someone who holds his family above all others."

Jon's smile widened as she seemed to be sitting on the edge of her seat, Truly interested in what he said. She rested her head in her hand as she perched her arms on her knees. Jon evaded the lowering of her neckline as best as he could.

"Does he take after your father in looks as you do?" She asked

Jon shook his head. "He does in some ways. He has the northern accent of course and is built like a Stark, but has the Tully hair and eyes. I would always tease him growing up of my northern looks compared to his southern roots. He was jealous I was able to grow facial hair so quickly." He gestured to his neatly trimmed beard.

She giggled. "Well it certainly does look becoming of you." she smiled

Jon glanced at her hands. They seemed to be almost shaking. "Princess I hope you don't take offence but why are you really here?" She almost seemed startled by the question but sighed.

"Is it not obvious to you?" She asked her eyes drifting over his body. She slowly leaned forward grabbing his knee tightly. Jon's eyes widened but remained calm.

"It's not obvious but it is noticeable, which is why you must understand why this can't happen." Jon sighed taking her hand off his knee gently.

"But why? Am I not to your liking Jon Snow?" She asked her smirk settled on her lips.

Jon shook his head with a laugh. "You know it's not that. It may have something to do with the fact you may be securing a betrothal with my brother."

She only frowned. "And? That may not happen Jon Snow, my father may not want to enter the war at all, and to be quite frank I may not wish a betrothal to someone who does not seek to be King." She said

Jon frowned as well. "I know nothing of the politics and mind of someone who lives in Dorne, but would want for justice against those who harmed not only my family, but those who did wrong with yours not count for anything?" He asked.

She gripped his hand. "Of course they do! But shouldn't a man who's about to go to war with an enemy who holds honor and justice in little regard... " She paused standing up to show him her full body stretched out beneath the beautiful silks she wore.

"Enjoy the touch of someone who wants him? Enjoy the moment of happiness in a world filled with so much sorrow?" She now sat in his lap. He couldn't help the growing bulge in his pants now.

"Princess.. I-" he tried to formulate a reason but his body was truly not helping him.

She brought her lips to his neck. "Call me Arianne" She whispered throatily.

Jon's hands gripped her hips for stability. "Arianne, I am absolutely attracted to you, but if you do go on to marry my brother how could I ever look him in the face? It would kill him and me to know I slept with his wife." He tried to stand but she pushed him back down.

"You don't even know if I would marry him. I can easily talk my father out of it and secure an alliance with the north through one of you sisters with one of my brothers." Her eyes looked so in need of him it was maddening.

Jon's eyes widened. That wasn't a bad idea actually. Arya though hated the whole process of marrying and becoming a bride and lady of anything. Would love Dorne. They taught their women fighting, riding, and didn't treat women as nothing more than birthing sacks."

"I think we could easily see that my little brother Tristane were to be betrothed to one of your sisters. I have faith they will be found and brought to your family. But, I want this Jon. I've never wanted someone as I want you now.." She moaned

Jon's head went back. His mind was reeling. It almost sounded too good to be true.

But at the same time, he wanted this. He never received anything his entire life. A bastard son with no inheritance looked down upon by everyone who could. But this was truly something he felt. He felt wanted. Not just by anyone but by a princess. Even if it was just for one night.

"I don't want to father another bastard into this world princess." He whispered as he gave her more access to his neck. She kept kissing her hands gripping his chest.

She then giggled. "Jon Snow there is a thing most women in Dorne take called moon tea. You will have nothing to worry about in that regard."

With that, Jon stood up gripping the Princesses' ass. She squealed but Jon's lips suddenly on hers quieted her. He allowed her to drop down to her feet but still keeping his lips to hers. She connected her hands behind his neck pulling him closer. Jon moaned into her mouth as her tongue gained entry to his. For a first real kiss this as something he wouldn't forget.

Jon's breaches were getting tighter and tighter as her hands trailed over him. She finally rested her palm on his growing bulge. "You're already so hard for me." She moaned as Jon kissed her delicate skin down her neck.

She gripped his tunic and began to lift. Jon's eyes widened. "Arianne wai-" It was too late. She already pulled it all the way over his head. And her reaction was nothing good.

She quickly brought her hand over her mouth to hide the shock at what she saw.

Arianne Martell

This was heaven. He seemed very shy and almost inexperienced. Which was strange for someone so undeniably beautiful. She was slowly becoming more and more wet as his tongue trailed down her neck. He was growing arouse as well as she gripped the hardness from his pants. She grew impatient though and pulled his tunic over his head, wanting to see all of him. "Arianne wai-" She gasped as she pulled her hand over her already agape mouth.

There on his body lay scars that looked so incredibly gruesome. None that appeared to be fatal save for the small one across his stomach. But there had to have been scar to make up half of his skin. And there just above his right pectoral muscle was a tattoo of an all blue rose. The color somewhat faded but the design was beautiful.

'Beautiful' she thought staring at his body. He was toned in every place imaginable and the scars only made her want him more. 'The body of a warrior'

But he looked almost frightened for her to see. "I'm sorry if this changes things bu-"

Jon began but was cut off by her lips. She continued her advances rubbing her hands up and down his body before she loosened his pants with her fingers and slid her hand down his undergarment. She gripped his hardness and he moaned softly. "This changes nothing Jon Snow." She whispered moving her wrist back and forth making him moan louder.

She began to lick down his chest biting softy and sucking on the scars that he seemed so nervous to show. "Someone's happy to see me." she said with a smirk as she pushed him back onto his bed, pulled his pants down, and wrapped her lips around his already stiff member.

"Oh Gods" Jon moaned. She smiled with her lips still sucking on him. She released his cock from her mouth with an audible pop. "Do you like my lips around that beautiful cock Jon Snow?" She didn't even wait to hear his reply as she kissed and sucked every inch of him.

Finally she pulled her dress over her head and she liked his reaction. He looked her entire body over with lust.

Jon Snow

This was everything he thought it would be. But at the same time it was more. This was a Dornish princess with prospects to marry Jon's lord brother and she wanted him. He knew he wasn't a bastard. But she didn't know that. She positioned herself on top of him looking ready to slide down his arousal. But Jon stopped her. He was nervous. "Arianne I've never.." He trailed off hoping she'd catch his drift.

She looked stunned for a moment but smiled. "Don't worry Jon Snow, I'll make sure this will be a night to remember." and she was right. They fucked three more times that night and Jon never wanted it to end. But of course his time was of the essence, and no matter how amazing it felt he knew this was not someone he could be with. She was a princess of Dorne a land of which would despise his mere existence. And to be honest marriage wasn't necessarily something he was ready for. He still had the problem of seeing himself as Jon Snow the bastard of Winterfell. The stain on Ned Stark's honor. Rather than Jon Targaryen the child of Prince Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark. The true heir to the Iron Throne. It probably wasn't the time to be thinking that though.

Arianne had stayed with him through the night, though they both never spoke a word after exhausting one another. Morning came and they both were ready for it.

"You know not many people can say their first time was with a princess." Jon quipped. Wagging his eyebrows playfully.

She laughed. "You do have a point Jon Snow. But not many people can say they performed up to, even exceeding a Dornish princesses' standard in general let alone their first time." She winked back.

Jon smiled. "I'm glad you enjoyed it Arianne."

Jon packed up his things and prepared to depart thanking Allyria for her kindness. Arianne walked him to his ship accompanied by two of her personal guards. "I sent a raven to my father of the plan to betroth my brother to your little sister. I informed him of your willingness to help our cause for justice and told him to send a raven to your brother as soon as he can. I can promise you the Dornish will be in the North preparing to fight the lions almost as soon as you get back to your family." She said. Jon's eye lit up with happiness.

" I thank you princess. I'm truly glad I met you Arianne Martell."

She smiled back. "As I'm glad I met you Jon Snow. Stay safe on your journey and perhaps we may see each other in the future." She waved as his vessel took off. Jon had gained an ally and a friend that day. But now was time for war, and he wasn't lacking the will to act anymore.

Robb Stark

Being King in the North was the last thing he expected to happen since they began marching against the Lannister army. It held a great deal of responsibility, a lot more than just being another lord. He now on paper held the Riverlands due to his mother's family being their liege lord, and the entirety of the northern army. Things were beginning to look up considering his capture of Jamie Lannister and the battle of the whispering woods coming through for his favor.

But being King meant more than just a select few battles and grand standing amongst his northern lords. It meant making difficult decisions no matter the cost. His mother was breathing down his neck to send the kingslayer back to King's Landing in exchange for Arya and Sansa. That was not something she understood. He knew how stupid that would be. To send the heir to Casterly Rock in exchange for two girls. He loved his sister, but this was war. He needed to keep the kingslayer close and hopefully use him as a bargaining chip whenever the time came.

"Robb." a voice called from outside his tent. He stood up from his desk to see his disheveled mother. "A raven came bearing the seal of the Martells." She said.

She looked to be excited. The dornish though skittish since the days of the rebellion seemed to be looking for who to trust, and who to back in this war. Hopefully this was the means of an alliance. "Did you read it?" Robb questioned his eyes showing curiosity.

His mother shook her head. "I figured we could read it together." She smiled

He smiled back and nodded. He ripped open the letter she handed to him and sat down in his chair gesturing for her to sit across from him.

"To the King in the North, I Doran Martell Prince of Dorne write in great excitement and the opportunity to pursue justice for our families. Your father though on the other side of the rebellion was a man my brother and I held much respect for. He stood up to the late King Robert over the rape and murder of our sister Elia, and her children. I hope you hold his honor, and drive to seek justice. Thanks to your half brother Jon Snow my daughter Arianne has informed me of a way to join our houses. In exchange for our armies allying ourselves with yours we seek a betrothal of your little sister Arya Stark and my son Tristane Martell. Your daughter as told by Jon Snow holds a great deal of importance to some of our culture. Fighting, riding, and women in power. She would be a princess to Dorne and wife to my son a prince. We understand she is held captive by the Lannisters, once rescued and the day she flowers we will join our houses benefitting the realm as we put the Lannnisters to the sword. I hope these terms sound appeasing to you, we seek the same thing you and I. Justice for our families. We await your reply. Signed Doran Martell Prince of Dorne." Robb finished.

He couldn't believe it. Not only were the Dornish seeking to help him in his quest for vengeance, but his brother Jon helped him. He hadn't seen Jon in years and now he returned helping him and his family seek justice for their father. Apparently his mother couldn't believe it either.

"This can't be right…." She whispered out. "Jon Snow gained you the Dornish armies?" She questioned to what seemed to be herself.

Robb shook his head with anger. "If what Doran Martell says is true, Jon convinced his daughter for us. I know you hold no love for Jon mother, but if he returns he will be welcomed with open arms as a Stark." He said with much conviction.

"Robb I-" She began but Robb would not hear it.

"I'm going to legitimize him mother, he returns after years of being away and never forgot his duty even as a bastard son...He could've ignored us, the Gods know he had every right to hate how he was treated to a point of ignorance of our people. But he showed honor and he plans to fight for us. He will be a Stark following behind Rickon in means of succession." He finished with passion.

Catelyn nodded with tears in her eyes. The boy she hated all her life and tormented still came to their aid. "As you say my king, he will be a Stark." she whispered out.

"This betrothal is exactly what Arya would tolerate as well. She always wanted to fight, father always said she held the wolf blood as aunt Lyanna did. This comes at a perfect time to finally push the Lannisters back and put that bastard boy Joffrey to the sword." Robb smiled

She smiled back. It was time for War.


	5. Chapter 5

I apologize for the longer wait than usual. I've been planning my wedding and work has been rough as of late. I promise you that each chapter will be updated within two weeks time. I have a lot planned for this story and I hope you all stay faithful with my writing. As always keep up with the comments and critiques. I need support and I definitely enjoy seeing how far along this story is coming. Thank you all for your words of encouragement and I hope you enjoy this next chapter. without further a due. Enjoy!

Sansa Stark

She was called into the throne room by King Joffrey the mere mention of his name sending shivers down her spine. She was such a fool, a terrible fool. She should have never left the walls of Winterfell, she missed her home. The North to her was all she had to dream of any more. As a child she viewed the North as barbaric. No tourneys, knights, or princes. Just a wasteland of tree worshipers. Of course she never felt the need to say that. Her own father was a follower of the old gods. But she herself never believed in the gods of the north. They didn't appeal to her. The seven were far too flattering to her ears. Stories of kings and queens sworn to uphold justice dictated to them by the southern gods of her mother. Princes and princesses who would inspire love and loyalty of all the people of Westeros. What a dream that was.

All she received since travelling to King's Landing was nightmares. Her father betrayed and murdered. Her golden haired prince was nothing more than a monster. The queen of the seven kingdoms a conniving woman of hatred, and her a northern girl with dreams of becoming queen. Nothing more than a northern fool.

She walked into the throne room petrified by the sight of him. He remained silent with a horrible sadistic glare set upon her. "You are here to answer for your brother's latest treasons." Joffrey called out from the iron throne. His voice was commanding almost as if he really was a king. But to Sansa all she saw was a hateful, spiteful, cowardice boy with a crown placed on his head.

"Your Grace, whatever my traitor brother has done I had no part in! You know that!" She cried out. Tears were slowly surfacing amongst her sleepless eyes.

Joffrey seemed unmoved. His eyes glinting with sadism. "Ser Lancel." His eyes glancing to the former squire of the late king Robert. "I beg you tell her of this outrage." He flicked his wrist for the blonde haired knight to speak.

Lancel was someone she never saw before. She only knew of him from seeing him meet with the queen from time to time. Interrupting the Queen's brutal interrogations. He seemed harmless almost quiet and shy whenever he would enter to speak to Cersei. But now he seemed angry and his anger was directed at her.

He walked down from the top of the steps gazing upon her and the onlookers of court. "Using some vile sorcery, your brother fell on Stafford Lannister with and army of wolves!" He shouted the whispers of the court were that of horror. They all whispered things like "Traitor" and "Savages".

"Thousands of good men were butchered…" he paused looking at all the onlookers gauging their reactions.

"After the slaughter, the Northmen feasted on the flesh of the slain." Gasps were heard across court.

This was all bullshit if she ever heard it. Nothing but lies spread to gain support for Joffrey and his army. Her brother was an honorable man. He was kind and sweet, and every bit her father's son. The northerners weren't eating upon anyone. And since when could one man gain the attention of an army of wolves. The story was meant to scare everyone, but the only one frightened was her. She was terrified of what they would do. Tears were beginning to stream down her cheeks.

Joffrey seemed almost bored, but leaned forward with his hand crossing his cheek. "Killing you would send your brother a message." He was speaking to himself it seemed.

She gasped silently. This could be it. Killed at the hands of a spoiled bastard. "But my mother insists on keeping you alive" He rolled his eyes

"Stand" He gestured to her. Hesitantly she got up from her fetal position. Standing. Her body began to shake in fear. "So we'll have to send your brother a message some other way." He grinned

"Meryn." He nodded to the white cloaked kingsguard. The ugly looking man was grinning now. He was walking towards her with his hand cocked back to strike.

"Leave her face, I like her pretty." Joffrey smirked.

She felt a blow to her stomach. The pain gathered all throughout her body. She was merely a girl unflowered. She never felt anything so painful physically. She cried out in pain. "Meryn my lady is overdressed." Joffrey called out from the throne.

"Unburden her" Ser Meryn ripped her dress apart. Her undergarments on clear display though lacking anything covering her chest. She sobbed. This was torture. She prided herself on her innocence and now all of court saw her naked like some whore at a brothel.

"If we want Robb Stark to hear us, we're going to have to speak louder!" Joffrey shouted a glint in his eye. She barely heard what he uttered. Her sobs racking across her body. She never felt so humiliated and hurt.

Ser Meryn had released his sword when she cut her dress and now she was going to feel the blade hit her. She flinched her sobs still echoing across court. "What is the meaning of this?!" shouted a voice calling from the entrance of the red keep. She turned to see Lord Tyrion enter with a guard at his side.

"What kind of knight beats a helpless girl?!" Tyrion whispered to the almost embarrassed looking Meryn Trant. Tyrion scoffed at him with disdain as he walked past him and looked at his nephew in anger. Ser Meryn angrily gazed at the imp.

"The kind who serves his king imp!" He grumbled menacingly.

Tyrion's guard muttered a cocky reply of impending violence if he continued. Tyrion called for something to cover Sansa up with and proceeded to berate Joffrey with words disguised as advice. She paid them no mind. She looked coldly at the ground. This place would destroy her one way or another. When asked by Lord Tyrion whether or not she wanted this betrothal she lied to keep her life intact. Anything to make the pain subside.

She was alone. No one cared for a traitor's daughter, not even one destined to become queen. Even though an angry set of eyes followed her all the way back to her room in shadows.

Jon Snow

Anger was a hard emotion that rarely manifested anymore. The league had made sure of that. Ducard had always made it clear that anger and revenge were good motivators, but distractors in battle and shouldn't hold weight for any of his decisions. This was different. He watched as a helpless little girl was beaten and mocked inside a throne room. The throne his family created which united the realm and brought peace for generations. Now it was used as a torture chamber as nobles cheered on their child dictator.

His baby sister. Sansa was his cousin by blood but would always be considered his sister in his heart. Though she followed her mother's footsteps in his shunning as a child, she didn't deserve this. No one deserved what he just witnessed. When that coward knight raised his blade he was prepared to jump in. But luckily house Lannister had at least one moral member. Tyrion Lannister would be someone he would remember. He would be spared that he would make sure of. But Joffrey he would die. Maybe not tonight, or in the near future, but he would suffer a death becoming of a tyrant.

He was tempted this night to end it all. Sneak his way into the boy's room and cut his throat. But that was far too easy and if there was one person who deserved to pay homage to his execution it was Sansa. He remained in the shadows all day, watching her shut the door to her room, examining the entrances through windows and watching guards who would be posted at her door. She was a hostage to the Lannisters. That much was evident. They had that cunt Meryn Trant watching her door the whole day, a member of the king's guard posted to watch over a frightened girl. His death would certainly put a smile on his face.

Night began to fall sharply. The noble men and women all left the halls and went back to their respected rooms. Only guards and city watchmen now were present throughout the red keep. This was his time to bring Sansa home. He would have to be quick and keep her quiet and understanding of what would transpire tonight. His prayers were answered though.

Meryn Trant stood guard close to his sister's room. His eyes remained vigil but it wouldn't matter once Jon drew his sword. Jon was dressed in his league's attire. All black body armor. Though it wasn't as flashy as golden plates, it certainly was much better than any smyth could create. The league was known for their warfare and advanced techniques of fighting and stealth. Though their skill with a blade weren't the only thing that gave them a major advantage. Their knowledge of crafting and inventions were certainly further in time. His armor was light enough to move faster than his enemies and strong enough to survive shortened blades at close range. He had made sure to keep his belongings on his ship, the captain knew somewhat of his upcoming endeavors in the capital. Jon had made clear to him that when night fell upon King's Landing he was to be prepared to set sail.

It was time for this boy king to feel fear. Jon saw two of the king's guard posted within the hallway to the right of his sister's room. They were most likely there to make sure the halls were empty at night. Ser Meryn wouldn't hear him kill his brothers. He would make sure one of them would survive to tell the tale to this boy king. Word would spread and take root that nobody would remain safe within these walls. He had silently watched from the shadows. He was lucky the ceiling above him was high up enough to avoid any light illuminating his position over the two unlucky guardsmen.

He dropped on the one closest to the door, his dagger imbedding itself into the man's neck. Luckily for Jon their helmets left just enough room between their breastplate to fit a fitting of a horizontal guard tried to shout but no words would form as blood ran out his mouth, an audible gurgle was heard softly within the hallway. A quick next kingsguard released his blade in shock but wasn't prepared for his blade to be disarmed by a sharpened throwing knife. He was about to shout but Jon wouldn't allow him the luxury of help from the rest of the keep. Jon rolled into position to flank him pulling the dagger with lightning speed to the man's throat.

Jon basked in the man's fear. His eyes were shut prepared for the inevitable when they opened to Jon's soft whisper. "Don't be afraid just yet. You will keep you life. But shout and I promise you one thing. You will die much slower than your friend there." Jon tilted his head to the right gesturing to the pool of blood forming beneath the body of his partner. "Blink twice if you understand." Jon whispered he pressed his blade further into the man's neck.

He was petrified that much was obvious. But he did blink. "Good. You will remain alive to tell the bastard king just how easy I could've taken his life tonight. But the dark knight will fall upon him like shadows." Jon said his blade still held firmly.

Beads of sweat began to drip at the bottom of his helmet. "The north remembers, and the dark knight never forgets." with that Jon released the knife quickly tilting the blade in his hand before slamming the hilt directly into the opening through the helmet, knocking the man unconscious. This was just the beginning.

Sansa Stark

Sleep was hard to come by in her state of mind. Thoughts of her home and her family always found a way to form late at night when she was alone. Then again she always was alone. She missed her mother and brothers. Robb was winning this war against the Lannisters and yet she knew they would never allow her to see them again. If Robb somehow made it to the red keep, she would be killed immediately at Joffrey's command. He would rather break his toy than allow anyone else to have it. She missed her mother's hugs and her soft touch of comfort. She missed her little brother's laughter and their excitement within the yards of Winterfell. She even missed her little annoyance of a sister. She felt so guilty for her treatment of Arya. She never got along with her mainly because of their personalities being complete opposites.

Arya was someone who was wild and untamed, brave and fierce. People would always compare her to her aunt Lyanna. Sweet and kind, but very much an untamed wolf if pushed to the brink. She prayed for her safety. Not to just the seven, but to any gods that would listen. She never even got to say she was sorry. Perhaps this was her punishment.

Punishment for wanting this betrothal, punishment for allowing her father to be executed, punishment for never holding the Stark name with pride.

She heard a bang and a quick muffled voice outside her room. She quickly put her robe on and backed into the corner dropping to her ankles. She heard a soft whisper before the sound of steel on metal echoed into her room. This was it. Perhaps the gods answered her prayers and would finally put her out of her misery for good. She still remained cowered in the corner.

She saw the door quickly open and a dark figure entered the room. The lights that were once illuminated from the torches were all extinguished in the hallway. She whimpered as the figure got closer.

As he got closer she was able to see he wore all black, dark as night. His face covered by a mask disguising his identity. He reached his hand forward and she flinched. Her whimpers had caused the man to retract. Though it was dark, the light from the moon entered through her window showing the body of a man. He looked to be muscular and blood was matted on the pitch black armor.

"We must leave at once my lady." a soft voice whispered out. She was petrified now.

"Please I had no hand in my brother's treachery. Don't hurt me.." She sobbed out.

A calm soothing shush dampened her sobs of terror. "I am not here to hurt you my lady, I am here to return you to your family." he whispered out.

This wasn't right. Her family would march to war for her life, but certainly had no intentions of sending an assassin matted in black to save her from the Lannister's clutches. "We must go now though, before the sun rises." he said softly.

"Who are you? My loyalty is to King Joffrey, I would never betray him." She softly exclaimed. Hoping that would be enough to stop this man from sending her back to the king.

Suddenly the dark figure lifted his hands and gently pulled off his mask revealing an almost exact replica of her father. He had his dark black hair knotted on top, his face was long though chiseled with dark grey eyes staring directly into hers. A scar running its course across his right eye. The moonlight shined on his eyes and she saw nothing but affection gaze down at her. "Sansa it's me...Jon"

Her eyes widened as tears began to surface. She only knew one Jon that would even remotely resemble this man. Her father's bastard son. The boy who disappeared all those years ago. It was him, there was no denying it. She began to cry as she stood up. Tears of joy, to see her half brother. Someone she mocked and ignored, he was here to save her.

"Jon...Is it really you?" she sobbed. She cupped her hand over her mouth to stop her cries of happiness. He smiled gently. He too seemed to be crying. He walked over to her and gently wrapped his arms around him. She ignored the blood stained armor gripping on to him for dear life. She sobbed into his chest. "Shhhhh….It's me sister, I wish this was under better circumstances, but we must leave now before the guards pass through and discover you missing, grab a bag quickly and we must make haste to the docks. There are tunnels underneath the red keep leading directly to my ship." He frantically ushered her to get moving.

Sansa nodded though the tears never stopped trailing down her cheeks. She grabbed a cloak and pulled the hood over her head to conceal her head. She glanced over at Jon as if he would vanish into thin air and saw he placed a piece of parchment on her bed. She didn't have time to ponder though. She packed a nap sack with some clothing and glanced at Jon who was guarding the door, his mask was put back into place.

He turned back "Sansa you need to remain quiet and follow me swiftly. Keep your eyes glued to my back and do not turn around. I will get you out of here, but we must be fast." He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the shadows. There was a light at the end of the hall but all the others were snuffed out. She looked to the side as Jon pulled her hand and her eyes widened as they passed a dead Meryn Trant. His eyes were stabbed deeply, and a pool of blood surrounded his body. "Keep your eyes on my back Sansa, do not look around!" Jon whispered sharply. She couldn't bring herself to forget what she saw. Though horrific, it did remind her that the gods did listen to her prayers.

Tyrion Lannister

He barely was able to get any sleep last night. The day before his nephew tested his limits. Ordering the beating of a helpless little girl was not what kings were supposed to do. They were supposed to inspire loyalty, devotion, and love. It seemed Joffrey only inspired men and women to fear him. Not physically of course. Joffrey couldn't wield a sword for the life of him. He was surrounded by some of the greatest warriors in Westeros, his father strength was legendary, his uncle Jamie's skill with a blade unmatched across the seven kingdoms, and his personal body guard the Hound was as fierce and aggressive with a blade as anyone. But his mother kept him hidden behind her skirts.

It was no secret his sister babied the boy. If Joffrey's aggression and sadist tendecies were anything to go by, these lands were doomed to the rule of another tyrant. This one was different though. The mad king Aerys Targaryen was known as somewhat intelligent before his mind was lost to madness. He was awful and ruthless, but at the same time the kingdoms were never this far in debt. His father knew something like this would happen. Say what you want of the Targaryens, but at least they knew how to gain loyalty and secure a wealthy kingdom. Joffrey was as intelligent as he was kind. Truly lacking.

He heard a knock at the door. He turned to his side to see Shae was missing from her bed. Probably up to help the Stark girl. He opened the door to find his cousin Lancel. His hair disheveled.

"My lord, the queen requests your presence in her chambers immedietly." He quickly stated.

'Now what woulld his sister want with him?'

Tyrion simply nodded making his way down the vast amount of halls and corridors to his sister's room. He noticed two guards looking quite vigil over her door. "My sister requested my presence." He nodded to them. They both let him through gently walking inside the rather over glorified chamber. Lion sigils as far as the eye could see, a small table was where she sat gripping her wine chalise with a queer look upon her face.

"What has happened that my sweet sister requests the company of her younger brother's company?" He smirked as he sat down across from her.

"Knock off your clever remarks. We have a predicament on our hands." She glared at him. Pushing an envelope across the table to him.

"What predicament has landed at our door step this time? Has your son declared war on another great house?" His eyebrow raised as he gripped the letter. The seal was strange, he had never seen it before. It displlayed an intracet drawing of a blue flower. Something similar to a rose. Though the petals were drawn in sharp lines. He opened and began reading outloud. "To the bastard boy Joffrey, I have taken the Stark girl from your grasp behind your very eyes. Your King's Guard lacked any ability to stop me. I could have at any moment cut your throat while you slept, but I find that to be too quick and unsatisfying. You have awakened a force you can not comprehend. You and your family will face the shadows soon enough. I promise you the Lannisters are not the only house who pays their debts. The north may remember, but the shadows never forget. Signed the dark knight."

Tyrion pinched the brim of his nose. A headache already beginning to make an appearance. "I assume if this letter is to be taken serious, that the Stark girl is gone." Tyion grumbled.

"She was missing from her room, that letter was found on her pillow this morning along with Ser Meryn and a large number of our house guards slaughtered." She replied. Her eyes displayed anger, but also something he rarely saw within his sister's eyes. Fear.

"What has Lord Varys found since then?" He questioned pouring himself some wine.

"Nothing, he says whoever this was he left no trace of anything and the letter gives him nothing to go by. The only phrase that would give us an indication was the line of the northern savages remembering." She angrily threw the letter across the room.

Tyrion sighed. "It seems the Starks have played us for fools. We have no hostages, father is losing this war, and now we have Stannis Baratheon preparing an invasion of the capitol." Tyrion was beside himself.

"We have the men, and the gold." Cersei scoffed. "Robb Stark will not be able to match our recourses. He is but a green boy playing at war."

Tyrion laughed. "A green boy who has won every battle he was apart of. You place far too much value on gold. Gold doesn't win us wars, alliances do. We need allies, if the starks and baratheons join forces it doesn't matter how much gold we have. Our heads will all be on spikes by the end of summer." Tyrion said

She was being difficult. Father always made it clear the importance of gold, but he also knew the importance of knowing their enemy. And whoever this was that broke into the red keep, he held some relation to the Stark family.

More questions and no answers. Perhaps he needed to pay Varys a visit. "Double our guards and soldiers within the red keep and make sure Joffrey knows of this." Tyrion ordered.

"He knows." Cersei said with a roll of her eyes. "He has already ordered for the surviving guard to face justice for his crimes of allowing an intruder into these walls." She gently said. Hiding her lips behind her wine.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

Tyrion smiled "I am the King's hand I'm going to get to the bottom of this and provide a means of gaining what we need." He smirked.

She frowned. "What is it we need?"

"Allies" Tyrion replied leaving her all alone.


	6. Chapter 6

**I will apologize now for the somewhat short chapter. Think of it as build up for a really high impact chapter seven. It's been super difficult writing after being in one hundred degree weather working ten hours throughout the day. On top of all my other responsibilities. But this is certainly a story I have a lot planned for. I'm coming up with a lot of ideas as far as where I want the north and the Starks in all of this. There will be white walkers and a certain enemy you've known in the first two chapters. I'm just finalizing where and when I want them to surface. The long night will be much greater and will up the stakes far more than the show ever did. No Dany will not go mad. That inclination never really even came to mind when writing this. There will be betrayals, character deaths, and loss throughout this story. Just deciding who I want to remain later on, and who I think needs to go no matter how much they are loved. Give me your thoughts and ideas. I will not take them one hundred percent and use them all the way, but it does give me some idea of what you all want and think is good. Keep up the comments and follows. Your support is awesome and much needed to keep me wanting this Story to reach new heights. The next chapter will be at the very least two weeks before I release it. I want to give a lot more background, and formulate better writing techniques within this story. It will also be much longer than my normal chapters. I want to get into the habit of writing double what i normally do and putting more dialogue and more background on each side of the spectrum. No this will not be following cannon one hundred percent if you haven't figured that out. There will be some plot points and character development that follow cannon but it won't be nearly as much as some stories do. Those who are wandering when Jon's dragon will finally hatch, I will say sooner than you think. I want to make it something great and truly amazing. As southpark did their best GRRM impression. "Don't worry the dragons are coming! They are on their way!" lol. Without further a due. Enjoy!**

* * *

Jon Snow

The winds were far from kind, that much was true about blackwater bay. Nothing but the stink of fish, polluted water, and the spray of salt in the air. During their escape out of the darkness of the bay the winds were not necessarily kind. A breeze here and there was far less than he hoped for. Luckily they had moved past any reach of ships for miles and now they were on there way to the riverlands. It was early morning, Sansa hadn't left his side since they departed King's Landing. How could he blame her? With what he saw in the throne room there wasn't any doubt how cruel the Lannisters were. Just seeing the boy who ordered his uncle's execution made his blood boil. He questioned his actions quite a bit. He could have easily killed that boy without causing a sweat. The mere action would have made the seven kingdoms far safer, but to what end? The Lannisters would still hold their armies, Joffrey's younger brother would take the throne, and Tywin Lannister would continue holding the seven kingdoms in his palm.

No just saving Sansa and leaving Joffrey with a note and a small present was enough for now. That present would perhaps keep the bastard child second guessing himself. He left a more personal note for the boy king inside one of his dressers. He knew the note that was left for Sansa was more for the King's council. The second note did far more justice and wouldn't be found for some time. The boy would find it and know that shadows always followed him now.

He smiled when he looked to his bed. Sansa was sleeping as calmly and peaceful than he ever thought possible. She hadn't talked to him much once she arrived. He told her to go right to sleep and he would return to his room once he knew they were beyond the bay past any Lannister ships. She protested, his poor sister was terrified to be alone after her escape. But, he knew sleep was what she needed and calmed her down. Giving her hope that they would speak in the morning.

Jon poured himself some water and gripped his egg tightly. The small black and red object was quite beautiful. Though tiny, it gave him some hope that the other side of his family was far from being extinguished. According to Arianne, his aunt Daenerys was still alive and traveling with the Dothraki. The thought certainly wasn't calming, but what could he do? She didn't know him, no one knew who he was. And those that did simply knew him as Eddard Stark's bastard son. She would probably see him as an enemy. Maybe once he helped Robb seek justice, he could finally seek her out. She was all alone now, her brother dead, her family name all but killed off. Perhaps she would rejoice at the thought of finding a hidden nephew, no matter who raised him. Maybe even more happy that he and his brother Robb brought justice to her family. Tywin Lannister was the one who orchestrated the murder of Elia Martell and her children. Killing him and Gregor Clegane would certainly allow her to see the Starks weren't her enemies.

Jon smiled as he glanced one last time at the little black orb. It was strange. The object almost felt warm to the touch and seemed to always bring him joy when he held it. It was feasible that it was just the knowledge of what it stood for. He always loved the Direwolf sigil, but now he knew what else he belonged to. The dragons of old Valyria. His other half.

Jon placed his egg back into his nap sack and feasted his eyes on the map in front of him. Tracing his path as though the ship would directly follow the direction his finger moving across the drawing of seas. The plan was smart, dock their ship closest to Moat Caitlyn. From there they would ride hard all the way to the crag. It could be risky but reports of his brother winning at ox cross meant the crag was certainly their next location of choice in the Westerlands. The difficulty would be avoiding unwanted eyes. He and Sansa both were going to be hunted. King's Landing was most likely already sending out ravens to Lord Tywin and his commanders under him. He would make sure they would ride with speed but also within the shadows. If Sansa could be happy about one thing about this journey to her family, it was that she was in good hands. Jon was trained by the best when it came to keeping themselves invisible. If worse came to worst he could fight off a good number of men to protect her.

He heard a yawn from his bed. He looked over with a smile to see Sansa stretching like a cat, she certainly looked a lot better thanks to some shut eye. She was his cousin by blood but she would always see her as his sister first. Even as his sister he would be lying if he said she hadn't grown into quite a beautiful young lady. Her features just screamed innocence and beauty. Her milk white skin accompanied by her waterfall of red on top would make any man steal a second glance. He hoped the beauty of her innocence would remain intact. He never got along with her mother thanks to Lady Catelyn's cruelty. But that was something he let go of a long time ago, and that also regarded Sansa's inability to view him as family.

If anything that happened last night was to be believed she too had let go of the past. Trauma strengthened ties of family that was certain.

She opened her eyes and immediately noticed Jon in the corner. "So it wasn't just a dream?" she smiled brightly. "You really did come last night and rescued me!" She exclaimed with joy.

Jon's smile was almost tearful. "It wasn't a dream sister. We are on our way back to your mother and Robb as we speak." He explained. He couldn't help his smile from widening as hers did too.

She got out of bed quickly her petite form removing the covers with ease and walked over to him. It was obvious what she intended to do. Jon stood and pulled her into his arms gently. She returned the hug happily sighing with content.

Jon let go to see small tears spiraling down her cheeks. "Hey now, no more of that. You are safe now, no one will ever bring you pain again, that I promise. So no more crying." Jon said gripping her shoulder.

She nodded. Wiping her tears with the sleeve of her night gown. "I can't help it. After all those years I treated you terribly. I rejoiced when you left, but you still came to save me. Please forgive me for how I acted." She frowned

"There's nothing to forgive, you will always be my little sister." Jon said

Sansa's frown morphed into a teasing smirk. "Forgive me." She nudged his side with hers.

Jon chuckled. "Fine I forgive you. But if you ignore me again I may just have to throw away all these lemon cakes I brought you." He smirked.

She gasped. "You remembered!"

"Kinda hard not to when you stole all of our deserts, Robb and I thought you would grow yellow hair with all of the cakes you ate." He teased.

"I don't remember you having a sense of humor." She deadpanned.

Jon laughed ushering her to sit down to eat with him.

"Well time away certainly changed me to some extent." Jon smiled sipping his water.

She dug right into the lemon cakes, sighing with content as she finished her first one. She looked at him seriously. "Why did you leave Jon?" She whispered out. She grabbed her goblet of water he poured for her.

"I know I never was kind to you growing up, and my mother was cruel a lot of the time. But we all were shocked by your disappearance. Arya was in tears for months when she found your room empty that day. Robb didn't speak a word to anyone. Father sent ravens to everyone including King Robert looking for you or any whispers of where you could be." She stated.

Jon sighed. He knew this would come up, how much could he tell her. He couldn't lie to her. He owed his family the truth. But he wasn't at all ready to tell his siblings of his allegiance to the league. That was not a topic they were ready to hear.

"That night I left wasn't planned, for years I was willing to ignore the japes and jokes of being Lord Stark's bastard. I had no intentions of leaving till Lord Stark gave me the order and dismissed me to the wall." He started. She was listening intently now.

"That night I was going to ask your father of my mother, Lady Catelyn two nights prior made it clear to me I was never to belong to your family after Robb's accident in the training yard. I figured I should at least have the right to know of my mother if she caused your family this much trouble." Sansa nodded sympathetically.

"I overheard your father saying my name in his Solar and I cracked the door open to eavesdrop. I shouldn't have done it, I was young and I couldn't help but be curious. I heard him apologize to my mother that he couldn't do more for me other than protect me, but he spoke of a name I never thought would ever arise from his lips and it tilted my whole world upside down." Jon whispered.

Sansa was beyond interested now. She leaned over the table resting her face within her palms. "What name Jon? Who was your mother?" She asked

"Lyanna Stark." Jon whispered out.

It took Sansa a minute to understand what he said. Suddenly her eyes widened and the whole room around them felt cold. The silence was unbearable for him. Maybe he should have waited, but his intent was to be somewhat honest with his family. Sansa was someone he knew would keep his trust, especially after rescuing her. The rocking of the boat caused creaks from the wooden vessel. Waves crashing against the sides, while gulls were sounding around them. But his room was nothing but calm, brutal, and quiet.

"Father would never sleep with his sist-" Sansa began.

Jon gripped her hands "I don't know the full story, I only know what I heard and the evidence surrounding it, that's all I can say." Sansa quieted awaiting more but nodded in confirmation.

"The story Lord Stark told us was he went to the tower of joy within Dorne. There with several of his northmen he came in contact with Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Oswell Whent, and Gerold Hightower of the King's Guard. The story makes sense as to why a fight ensued. They were guards to house Targaryen and loyal to them, but at that time Aerys was on the verge of being overrun by the combined forces of the Lannister army. Rhaegar had just been killed at the trident at the hands of Robert Baratheon. So why would three esteemed members of the King's Guard sworn to protect house Targaryen remain in the red mountains of Dorne guarding a tower?"

Sansa contemplated his question for a second. She was obviously trying hard to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

"To guard our aunt. Rhaegar instructed them to watch her so she wouldn't escape." Sansa answered quite convinced.

Jon shook his head. "You're somewhat right, but it wouldn't explain why they stayed after Rhaegar fell. I know now why they stayed. There were two women father never talked about. Too much pain or perhaps to keep a secret that would change the realm and cause another war to erupt. My mother and Lyanna Stark."

"She was giving birth to you." Sansa whispered finally understanding where she was going with this. "You're Lyanna's son.." She tightened her grip on his hands as tears started to fall.

"Rhaegar kidnapped her and rap-" She began but quieted when she saw him shake his head yet again.

"When I overheard father in his solar, he confirmed what the evidence of that day made me certain of what truly happened. We were all lied to. Robert's rebellion was all based on a lie. Prince Rhaegar never kidnapped Lyanna. He never raped her…" Jon paused a tear strolled down his cheek. Sansa too was crying silently. "He loved her. And she loved him. Father confirmed it when he whispered to the air that night. He wished he could have made me a prince as I was born to be, he wished he could have done more for her and Rhaegar's heir. Then I thought back to why the King's Guard remained at the tower even though their prince fell. Why protect Rhaegar's wife when she was dying alone and house Targaryen was on the verge of being extinguished?"

"They were protecting their future king." Sansa whispered.

Jon nodded his hands falling from her grasp. "I didn't want to believe it at first. Me Jon Snow born a king. I came to terms with it on my travels and since then I wished I could've been there to save your father. My father. He protected me even though it put his honor and his marriage at stake. He gave me love and care when no one else would. He gifted me with a family I could never forget and cherished with all I have. I maybe born a prince or even a king thanks to Rhaegar's blood, but Lord Eddard Stark will always be my father." Jon smiled

It was hard for him to tell someone this. He hated showing emotion. The league had all but made him immune to it. But telling his sister of his birth and the father and mother he never knew about was impossible not to convey sadness and show it with tears. He spoke true though. Lord Stark will always be his father, and so was Rhaegar Targaryen. He didn't have to choose. He was both a wolf, and a dragon. His mother was the only one out of all of this he couldn't bear not to cry over. He was convinced his entire life his mother never loved him, and knowing just how much that love was had kept him sleepless for many nights. Praying she would be proud of who he was.

"I treated you as if you were a bastard your whole life, all I ever wanted was a prince to come and save me from the North. And Now a prince has saved me by returning me to my home." She cried getting up and almost tackling him in a hug.

He held her gently rubbing her back softly. She pulled back slightly still grasped in his arms. "You will always be my brother Jon, not just for what you did for me. But because you never forgot of us." She whispered burying her head into his arm.

"I will never forget." Jon whispered back.

The voyage was long and arduous. The sea wasn't always kind to him. He hated being on a boat. But they were nearing their destination. Jon and Sansa remained on top of the deck, the winds blowing softly while sea spray continued to dust his face and hair. Sansa was loving it, he could tell. He was happy for her. She always wanted to see the world and perhaps when all this was over she could fulfill that dream.

"You know a few years after we left we all received direwolves. I lost mine due to the Lannisters and Arya sent hers away to protect her, but Robb, Bran, and Rickon all have theirs." She happily commented.

"Direwolves?!" Jon exclaimed shocked. "How did all of you find a creature only found north of the wall? You must be jesting!"Jon smiled

Sansa laughed. "You can be a hidden prince to a dynasty of some of the greatest men and women ever known and you question how we got our hands on some wolves?" She continued giggling.

"Sansa direwolves can grow to the size of ponies. It's not the same as a regular wolf." Jon deadpanned.

"I know, I jest. But we did find one left behind and Robb told us that if you were here it would've been yours. He even kept it safe for you if you ever were to return home. I'm sure he will come to love you as much as ours loved us." She smiled though it seemed almost forced. Underneath he could see she mourned. He couldn't relate. Since he left Winterfell he was alone. He learned what it was like to rely on only himself. The pain of loss really never affected him, how could it? You can't feel loss when there isn't much to lose. He didn't have friends or magical creatures as companions. He only had himself for so long. Even when he became a member of the league friends weren't the right word to describe his relationship with the other trainees or members. They were quiet, cold, and calculated. Never showing sympathy or love. To be fearless you had to let go of your former life, let go of emotions like love and sorrow. Replace them with the will to act and your ability to carry out your will.

Of course now that was in the past. He didn't really bring back his former emotions fully. But his family was the exception. Even his love making with Arianne was more lust than love. Fulfilling a need of hers and his, rather than emptying the cold substance that was his heart. He didn't really know if it was possible for him to love. Not the type of love that his father had for his mother. Perhaps it was better that way. Love only brought pain. If you took away their love the world he knew would be so different. He wouldn't be here, but the rest of the seven kingdoms wouldn't be suffering.

Love was the death of duty.

"I'm sorry for all you had to go through Sansa.." Jon continued to gaze off into the horizon. The sun was shining across the surface of the waters. "I will never know what you had to go through since you arrived in the capitol. But I will make sure it never happens again." Jon turned his eyes displaying compassion. Yet a great deal of determination.

Sansa smiled sadly she swiveled her head to meet his eyes. "It wasn't what I hoped for when I dreamt of living in King's Landing, there was ever a time I considered myself safe. Not since father died. But now with you by my side I truly feel guarded and protected."

'She will never be the same' Jon thought. Then again would he? Since his training he was not the same boy who left Winterfell. Jon grew up holding honor close to his heart. Just as his Uncle had. Honor is only good to have when your enemy matches it. Since his missions with the league he saw the worst of mankind. Slavery, rape, war, and torture. All coming from men who held honor as much as slaves held freedom. Honor he held to a certain extent. But relying on others to offer the same was fools thinking.

"I'm glad. Once we reach the outskirts of the Riverlands we will depart for the crag. We will ride hard following close to the King's Road but keeping off the main path. Riding at night would be our best bet. We should arrive within two days if we remain quiet, fast, and determined."

Sansa nodded. "I trust your judgement." she smiled gently.

Jon nodded back. "Good, you will have to continue trusting me till we meet up with Robb and his bannermen."

Sansa smiled and turned and walked to go back to her chambers. Well their chambers. He didn't sleep much since he rescued her and he couldn't deny her feeling comfortable. Perhaps in different circumstances Jon would be bothered by his little sister sharing his bed. But, he never saw Sansa that way. Not now and certainly not when she scorned him as children. He just wanted her to feel safe. Safety for his family was something he was willing to give up anything for.

He had the will to see it through.

Jon followed her back to their room. and sat down next to her at the table. She looked to be curious of something. Her hands were fidgeting. A clear sign of her nerves getting the better of her.

"Have you given any thought of pushing your claim?" Sansa asked curiously. She seemed almost scared to ask.

This was something Jon had debated time and time again. After seeing Joffrey's rule in person, he felt less hesitant to truly take his birthright. But at the same time it wasn't something he was prepared for. He was a warrior. An assassin made by the league of shadows. Not some lord who understood what it took to hold all seven kingdoms together.

But after seeing that horrid excuse for a king. Anything was possible. He would not make a decision yet. But maybe with time his decision will be far easier to make when the fighting is over.

"I have." Jon said

"and?" She pushed him further.

"It's not out of the question." Jon sighed.

She smirked. "But?"

"But.." Jon started with a smirk of his own. "I wont make a decision till I know support will follow. Not just from the North but from the other houses of Westeros. We need stability and I need not only an understanding of how to lead, but a way of gaining support without people questioning my birth." Jon said.

"Well I think you would make a better king than Joffrey." She laughed

Jon joined her chuckles. "That isn't much of a feat. Hodor could rule better than him!" he exclaimed.

Sansa giggled. "I doubt his speeches would be as compelling as yours would." She commented.

"Oh that wasn't very nice. He was always such a sweet soul." Jon smiled obviously not offended by her joke.

"He was. I miss home." She sighed.

Jon gripped her hand tightly. "So do I Sansa. So do I..."

* * *

Robb Stark

He knew it was wrong. How could he not. Growing up under the honorable Ned Stark certainly pushed his conscious to his limits on whatever decision he made. He could not deny what he did tonight was considered foolish. Especially during war times. But he also could not deny the love he felt for Talisa. She was strong willed, beautiful,kind yet fierce. She made his heart pace at a different rate when she was near. Yet he broke his oath to the Freys. It was not something he asked for. Falling in love during a war that was not yet even close to being won.

Love was the death of duty. The Freys would not send men his way now, he knew that much to be true. With the Dornish alliance now in place, it wouldn't matter nearly as much. The Dornish held far more men and prowess on the battlefield. The last raven he received from Prince Oberyn Martell guaranteed their arrival within a fortnight. Five thousand soldiers along with two thousand of their light cavalry. Dorne wouldn't possess the same capabilities with riding as his men. Different terrain, different ways of fighting. But their soldiers were capable of providing a far greater skill set on the battlefield.

He also heard great rumors of the 'Red Viper's' skill in combat. They say he was just as capable as any to fight amongst some of the greatest warriors Westeros had to offer. Maybe he was that good, maybe not. It didn't matter. All that mattered was the men and extra forces they supplied.

His army once complete with the Dornish forces would strike Casterly Rock hard. Oberyn spoke of Dorne's fleet attacking the rock on the coast. While their combined forces would prepare for a siege on Lord Tywin's home. He was hesitant since hearing of Theon's betrayal. Especially since word of his brother's murders met his ears. There wasn't much he could do now. Lord Bolton offered his son and some of his troops remaining at the Dreadfort to take back Winterfell and capture that Greyjoy cunt. He mourned for his brothers. But he couldn't fully give up his duty of winning this war. His father had to be in similar circumstances when he joined the rebellion. Aunt Lyanna was captured and was raped by the crown prince, but Lord Stark did his duty. So would he now.

He wanted to wait for Jon to arrive before they sieged Casterly Rock, but he couldn't. Jon would hopefully catch up or arrive before they marched. This couldn't come at a better time. Reports of Stannis sailing to take King's Landing brought hope to Robb of Sansa's rescue. His mother told of him of Stannis and his red priestess. But he would not object to the man's distraction. If he attacked King's Landing and Robb took the rock. The Lannisters would be finished. He was certain he could come to some form of agreement with Stannis allowing the North independence. If not his forces would be in far greater numbers than the Baratheons. Casterly Rock would not end without loss, but King's Landing would deplete Stannis down to lesser forces than his own.

Either way, they would succeed. He knew it.


	7. Chapter 7

**So this weekend I really worked hard to write a good meaningful chapter. This was something I took time and a lot of thought on and I got inspiration from prior stories I read in the past. Though hopefully you all enjoy where I'm going with this. I will have more notes at the end of the chapter so please read up and keep the comments, favorites, and follows coming. I have so much planned with this story including Jon really showing Westeros what it's like to face off against a member of the league of shadows. There will be a lot of battle chapters coming your way in the future that's for sure. Enjoy!**

* * *

Jon Snow

The ride through the Riverlands had gone without a hitch. They rode hard and fast throughout the night and found places to shelter for rest partially during the day. Sansa was tired, they didn't have much as far as rations went and riding on a horse for hours certainly kept their bodies sore. She remained quiet though. He instructed her to of course. They would ride faster and remain like shadows if they kept their silence. He didn't think of much. His mind remained focused. They could easily have Lannisters on their tail if he didn't think of his routes and keep vigilant.

They stopped to camp close to sun rise. They were close to a day away from Robb's camp he assumed, and they needed a few hours of rest before they continued. Well Sansa did. His body was made to overcome simple horse rides and days without food. Her body? Not so much. That was no fault of hers though. She grew up sheltered for the most part. Winterfell gave her the privilege of always having food, clothing, shelter, and love. She didn't understand the ways of the world yet. She was starting to though. The Lannisters made sure of that.

Yet as cruel as they were to her. She hadn't felt true fear yet. Fear was without hope. Fear of death was inevitable for some. But wasn't universal. Jon had lost his fear for death along time ago. Even before he met Ducard. He was fearless now. Or so he thought. He still felt afraid to lose those he loved. But, that was a fear he could control. A fear he could counter.

They both had their eyes fixed upon the fire Jon had set up for them. The sun came rather quick. But they both were cold from the chills night brought. Jon ignored it, but Sansa was shivering before he created flames. They were seated on the outskirts of the King's Road. They were close now to Riverrun. But remained in the woods miles out. He knew the Tully family would easily welcome Sansa with open arms. But, he wasn't so sure of their defenses should the Lannisters learn of their presence. They had to be looking for them.

He heard singing off in the distance. A gentle voice singing words he hadn't heard before. Then again Jon didn't really claim to no much in regards to songs. He didn't have a need to learn. Singing to pretty maidens wasn't his style anyways. He was a bastard in their eyes to begin with. The voices were approaching. They had to be a small party. Perhaps a group of hunters. Though Sansa began snoring which made his heart stop and the voices as well. 'Fuck'

Jon put his hand over Sansa's lips and nose. She woke quickly for a need to breathe but Jon only gave her enough room to inhale. He raised a finger to his lips, an indication to be quiet. Sansa's eyes widened and closed shut. She held her breath. But, it was too late. The horses were now approaching them through the trees. They were within their sight now.

Jon frowned and grabbed his belt carrying his sword. He didn't see any sigils of Lions, but he couldn't be too careful. "Sansa stay behind me and let me do the talking." Jon calmly whispered. She was shaking. But nodded quickly pulling her hood up and cowered behind Jon's back.

They were about fifty meters away and their horses remained like statues. Of course he couldn't see all their faces, the trees provided them cover, but they too had a means of dodging any ranged shots. Though they were somewhat far, Jon could make out their appearance somewhat. The man in the front of the band of men was short in stature. He seemed almost uncaring or perhaps drunk. He continued to swig his leather pouch of what he assumed was some type of wine. He had reddish hair which was slicked back revealing a bald spot circling the top of his head. The man next to him was taller, with an eye patch and greyish black hair. He seemed intrigued, more focused than the redhead at his side.

"Good day traveler! Is there room for a lonely band of hunters to enjoy your fire?" The redhead called out. He obviously was testing him. Jon remained calm and smiled. "The invitation is open my lords, but my companion and I were just leaving it just so happens."

"Well that is sad to hear! We always enjoy meeting new faces. The girl behind you in particular seems interesting, especially considering her beauty is hidden from us!" He shouted in amusement.

Sansa took a breath from behind him. Her shaking was growing on Jon's back. "She is just shy my lord!"

The man with the eye patch frowned. He whispered to the man to his right which earned him a nod. "We have heard a story from King's Landing of the abduction of Sansa of house Stark. I pray you are not the culprit of such a story my good Ser." He shouted.

Jon hesitated. They may turn out to be Lannisters after all. Fighting wasn't what he wanted. This would not be an easy feat to take down a group of fighters on horseback with only his sword. Especially with Sansa in striking distance of them. Jon's hand rested on the pommel of his blade.

"Of course not, I'm only a guard of house Tully taking back a local serving wench who got lost on her travels to Riverrun!" Jon remained calm. His lips tightened into a false smile.

The group of men looked at him in disbelief, they whispered to someone and suddenly Jon heard the the wind quicken. A sharp projectile sent his way.

'Why have you brought me to the yard? You told me I would be studying today.' Jon rolled his eyes. Ducard always pushed him to his limits, but his teachings were certainly different than others. Filled with riddles and a constant need to change his words.

'You will be studying today. Studying something that not many men in this world can claim to do.' Ducard smirked.

'And what is that?' Jon turned and met his gaze curiously. The snow was falling quickly but would melt once it made contact with the ground of the yard. Targets made for archery and wooden dummies for sword training were planted all around them.

Ducard's eyes looked to the table nearest to them. On top of the wood stood a wooden curved bow, along with a quiver of dummy arrows. They were an enigma to him, but apparently the arrow was used as only practice. Not tipped to kill but weighted enough to shoot. Jon had practiced dodging arrows shot at him quite often. Receiving bruises from the wood tipped projectiles in the shape of a spoon. 'Fire an arrow at me and we can begin.'

Jon narrowed his eyes in confusion but complied with the order. Gripping the Bow and aiming it at Ducard who walked to the center of the yard. Jon focused on his head quick and released the string. The wooden projectile shot like a comet through the air. Ducard stood solid as a rock, and in the blink of an eye to Jon's disbelief the shaft of the arrow was now in Ducard's palm.

'How? Ho- How is that possible?' Jon stuttered with his eyes still in disbelief.

'Anything is possible with the right training, and the will to learn.' Ducard chuckled. 'You can learn just as I did, it takes constant practice and a lot of skin broken from the speed of a bow. But catching an arrow is just as possible as all the other techniques we have taught you before.'

Sansa must have heard the release of the bow string because she cried out "Stop! Don't hurt him!" but it was too late.

She closed her eyes in fear of Jon falling. But it never came. Silence followed. She slowly opened them and came out to the side of Jon her hood now down from her head shooting up over the sound of the shot. Jon was smirking. The arrow now in his palm, though the shot was fast which was evident from the blood dripping down his hand. The speed tore his skin, and would leave a burn over the friction. But he made his point. Apparently Sansa revealing herself was enough to make a point as well.

They looked on in amazement but the man in front broke their gazes of disbelief. "Put the bow down Edric." The man with the eye patch called out.

Jon turned to see a young man close to age with Sansa relinquish his aim on them. He was out of view at the time of the shot. But Jon's senses were sharp.

They approached them slowly. Jon released his sword in defense. He winced from the pain of the burn on his hand but straightened quickly ignoring the throbbing. "Are you under duress Lady Sansa?" one of them asked. They were now within a mere feet of them. Jon didn't keep his sword down. "Sansa stay back." Jon whispered.

Sansa ignored him. "No my lords. Please this is my brother Jon, he is taking me back to my brother Robb's camp!" she cried out begging for them to stop.

Jon rolled his eyes. Of course Sansa would rely on the good hearts of some random travelers not to take up arms against them. They could easily take her and bring her back to King's Landing.

"Then you have no fear from us Lady Sansa. We respected your father and it would be our pleasure and duty to keep his daughter and son safe and fed properly…" He jumped off his horse along with the red haired man next to them.

Jon sheathed his sword with some hesitance. But he saw their eyes were displaying compassion and truth to their words. "I'm Beric Dondarrion and this is Thoros of Myr." Gesturing to the man next to him.

Jon's eyes widened. But he smiled in relief. Beric was betrothed to Allyria. Thoros of Myr was one of the famed knights who broke the siege of Pyke. He remembered as a child hearing stories of his flaming sword and relentless battle stamina.

Beric held his hand out, and Jon grasped it tightly. "Jon Snow."

The short ride back to their hideout was a welcome one. They were a breath of fresh air in these troubled times. The brotherhood without banners is what they're called. Fitting. Each of them never displayed any sigil on their armor,cloaks,or weapons. They only had one another to rely on. It made Jon think of the times when he was nothing but the bastard of Winterfell. Though he never had the Stark name he always relied on his siblings. Robb was his best friend. They did everything together no matter his mother's disapproving gaze that followed the two. They learned how to walk, speak, ride, and fight together. As much as Jon envied Robb growing up for having everything he ever wanted, he never hated him for it. Sometimes Jon wanted to. How could he not? Robb had everything he wanted. He had a mother who loved him more than life itself. He had every girl's attention no matter if Jon was better with a blade. They would spar and Jon would always best Robb but the girls would never cheer or clap. They wanted the true heir to Winterfell. The next warden of the North. Robb had the Stark name. The only thing he ever craved. The only thing that mattered more to him than perhaps anything other than his mother's identity. Jon wanted to be a Stark. Now he couldn't be. He was a Targaryen and a Stark, but the name Targaryen would be his. Hopefully someday he could be more open about it.

Arya was someone who he loved more than anyone in this world. He asked Sansa on the voyage to the Riverland shores of her whereabouts. She was just as much in the dark of her disappearance as he was. Apparently nobody knew where she went off to. Robb was his best friend but Arya was his heart. His hesitance of leaving Winterfell behind was her doing. She always stuck up for him. She viewed him as her equal, her brother. She had the strength of the wall, and had the tenacity of a direwolf. Always wanting to learn how to fight over the tasks of a lady. Before he made his entrance into the Red Keep Jon visited every tavern and local market he could find asking of her. He was discreet but the people he questioned and listened to knew nothing. He would find her, he promised himself that he would find her.

But seeing how the Brotherhood operated and treated one another was enough to remind him of the days he missed. The family he left behind. Thoros was a peculiar man but one who kept everyone's spirits up and constantly rising. He had an average singing voice but one that you couldn't help but join in with. He was also kind to Sansa, complimenting her beauty and her strength of endurance. It was apparent word of her treatment in King's Landing had reached the ears of many.

Beric was a solemn man. Not talking much but when he did others would listen. He was kind too. He talked of Lord Stark and his regrets of leaving him in the capitol. Though Jon couldn't blame the man. Especially considering it was Lord Stark's order that sent them here searching for the mountain himself. Then there was the Dayne boy. Jon hadn't really spoke to him yet. He wished to remind him of his aunt's kindness. But the boy seemed shy and timid. He wasn't craven. Though the men japed over his inability to kill a man. That was something Jon smiled over. The boy chuckled but almost seemed saddened he wasn't able to counter their wise cracks. Jon found it a blessing for the boy. Every life he took was for honor's sake. He never took a life that wasn't without reason. He had killed for the league, and even though the league had morals Jon would consider to be maddening. They also weren't murderers. They only killed those who committed acts of brutality and evil upon mankind. Though he was skilled at fighting and gifted with the art of being an assassin he never took took pleasure in it. Killing someone drained your very soul, no matter how justified.

The ride was short back to their camp. Jon was expecting something small in the middle of the wilderness of the Riverlands, but was surprised to see a cave as their hideout. It seemed they must have just started building the Brotherhood up, the small cavern like settlement still had dark corners that shadows would dance across from the light of the torches in the middle. Small bed like material was laid out in one corner furthest from the entrance. It wasn't the most pleasurable place to rest one's head. But it was far better than the open woods around them.

Sansa took to sleeping right away. Jon took a small nap but awoke quickly. It had become a habit to sleep shortly awaking for the smallest noise around him. He could sleep soundly when they were with Robb in his camp. He definitely was in need of it. Thoros and Beric were off hunting with a small group of their brothers. Jon approached Edric who was seated close to their firepit.

Jon sat down across from him. "You're Edric Dayne." Jon stated though it more was directed as a question. He already knew the answer but it may get the timid boy to speak with him.

"Aye" He nodded with a shy smile. "You're Jon Snow, Lord Stark's son." He stated back with a chuckle. Jon chuckled with him.

"I've met your aunt Allyria. She was a very kind woman I must say." Jon smiled. Edric looked confused. "When I returned to Westeros I stopped in Starfall, I met her and Princess Arianne. They were very kind and made me feel at home, though your relative Ser Gerold was a different story." Jon laughed.

Edric smiled at the mention of his aunt but it was short lived when Jon said Darkstar's name. "He isn't someone I would consider family. He is a cruel, over confident man." Edric spat.

Jon nodded. "He challenged me to a duel in hopes to gain the Princesses' affections." Jon smirked. Ironic as Jon was not expecting the opposite to occur.

"And?" Edric leaned forward "Who won?" He asked curiously.

"Well it wasn't much of a match but he isn't bad with a blade…." Jon said "I'm just better." Jon smirked.

Edric laughed. "I'd imagine someone who can catch an arrow out of the air can wield a blade just as skillfully. I apologize for my shot, we are very cautious of travelers. Lord Beric especially so. He held your father in high regard. My aunt Ashara shared his views before she passed. The Lannisters found it a good plan to inform Westeros of Lady Sansa's capture. They reported an evil assassin who murdered a King's Guard and stole your sister away for ransom. We were just weary for her sake, your father was someone Lord Beric would talk about as being the most honorable man he ever met. My aunt Ashara shared his views of him before she passed." He smiled.

Jon returned his smile. "My father didn't speak of her, I've heard the rumors but I assumed those times were too painful to speak of." Jon replied.

Edric looked confused. "Allyria told me of your father's affections for her sister. She said Ashara and he fell in love at the tourney of Harrenhal. But the rebellion certainly wouldn't give their love anything to prosper with." Edric sighed.

Jon nodded. The rebellion was a sore topic for just about anyone. Him even more so. Jon lost his parent, both grandfathers, his uncle, his grandmother, and two half siblings. Not only that but sometimes he felt almost responsible for it. If his mother and father had just informed someone of their love then perhaps things could've been different. Though dwelling on the past wouldn't bring him any comfort in the mind.

"I knew your mother." Edric smiled "She was my wet nurse. Her name was Wylla if Lord Stark never decided to tell you."

Jon froze. That must have been his real mother's handmaiden at the time of her death. "Lord Stark mentioned her name to me before I left Winterfell." Jon smiled back still a bit cautious to further this conversation.

Before Edric continued the sounds of laughter echoed across the walls of the cave. It seemed Lord Beric and Thoros had returned with their hunting party, dragging a fallen stag across one of their small carts. It wasn't as large as some he had hunted back in Winterfell. But would certainly keep his men well fed for the night. Sansa must have woken up she rubbed the sleep across her eyes and joined Jon sitting next to him by the fire. "Will we depart soon?" She whispered to him.

Jon gripped her hand and squeezed. "Once it the sun sets." Jon smiled

Sansa smiled back. "We will make it to Robb and your mother in less than a day."

Sansa deserved some happiness. He was just glad the brotherhood had offered them some food before the hit the road. Lord Beric and Thoros joined the three by the fire gifting them some stag scoured on some shaved down twigs to hold over the fire to cook.

This was perfect. It wasn't spiced or cooked to perfection, but he would never deny food tasting better when hunger was rumbling through his stomach. Sansa seemed to have the same thoughts. Savoring the cooked stag thoroughly.

"I sense a solid future ahead of you Snow." Thoros broke their meal. Each of them had finished and were standing over the fire conversing. Sansa speaking to Lord Beric of her father. While Edric stood with them listening of Beric's stories. "Sense?" Jon curiously inquired.

"Have you ever heard of R'llor Jon Snow?" Thoros said gazing into the flames.

Jon had once heard of such a god. One of the sailors he traveled to King's Landing with had mentioned a group of red priestesses in Volantis. He spoke of them performing miracles and dark magic in the name of the lord of light. Jon saw it as merely folklore.

"I have." Jon replied looking to see Thoros still gazing intently into the flames below them. "The Lord has plans for you lad. Plans that even I have trouble deciphering. Perhaps you would like to take a look." Thoros gestured to the fire. Jon frowned. Was this some trick? What was he expecting to happen.

Not wanting to offend him, Jon looked into the flames curiously. "What am I looking at?" Jon skeptically asked.

"Keep an open mind and keep your eyes on the base of the flames and you will see. Your eyes will be opened." Jon continued to stare though nothing happened. The orange and red fire crackling softly over the sound of Beric's stories to Sansa.

It was strange. He was standing close to the fire but suddenly felt cold. The voices around him dying out but Jon paid it no mind. His eyes intently staring into the fire. "When do I stop?" Jon asked.

No reply. Jon looked up and his eyes widened. Thoros was nowhere to be found. The whole brotherhood had vanished along with his sister. The chills he felt earlier now making sense for he looked around furiously in hopes of seeing Sansa only to find his location changed. He wasn't in Riverrun that was for sure. Snow was all around him. The only thing that remained was the fire next to his feet. "Sansa?!" he cried out. The sound of his voice echoing into the great wasteland of snow and ice that chilled his bones to the core.

He looked in all directions in front of him. The wind was picking up violently making Jon shiver. This must be some type of trick. Jon turned to see what laid behind him when his eyes widened quickly. There were people out there. At least he thought he saw people. It was hard to tell. He cupped his hand over his eyes shielding his face from the flurry of snow and ice being pelted across the violent winds that howled. "Hello?!" Jon shouted trying to gather their attention. The figures didn't move. This was strange. Whoever they were there was many of them all lined up perhaps a hundred yards out. Not moving a muscle.

'I can't just stand her. I'll freeze.' Jon began to trudge across the Snowy surface. The winds almost sending him sailing across the tundra before him. Jon wasn't prepared for what he saw when he was merely a few yards away. They looked like ordinary people wearing snow pelts and black cloaks. The same black cloaks his uncle Benjen used to wear to Winterfell. It signified men of the night's watch. Though they dressed the part, their faces told a different story. They all looked like corpses. Their skin was a dark grey as though they had been dead for many moons. That was just the ones with skin that covered their faces. Others apparently weren't so fortunate. There was a man in a bear skin pelt covering his scrawny shoulders whose face resembled a skeleton. Hair and skin hanging on one half of his face, while the other a skull easily seen through the snowfall. What sent shivers down his spine though were their eyes. All of them were a shining blue. Not blue like something he could envision as beautiful but a blue that seemed almost inhuman. They weren't looking at him. They just stared off into the abyss that was what Jon assumed beyond the wall.

Jon didn't know what possessed him to trudge through the never ending group of walking corpses but at the end of their endless ranks of men. Stood a figure who was certainly not human. He looked like something out of a nightmare. Pale blue skin covered by a white armor as though it were ice itself. His eyes began to tilt up and when he locked eyes with whatever it was the creature looked back. Jon backed up but felt a presence behind him. He turned to see an even greater number of corpses circling him. The sound of the wind violently tearing into his skin must have concealed the sound of their movements. Jon wasn't afraid. He rested his palm on the top of his sword defensively. Hesitant to move incase it would awake the walking cadavers. "Jon!" He heard a voice scream out echoing across the tundra. It sounded like Sansa. Before he could ponder what he heard he turned back around and screamed. The ungodly creature he stared at previously gripped his forearm tightly. He felt an agonizing pain shoot up his hand all the way to his shoulder. It felt cold. Not cold like he knew though. So cold he felt as though his body could shatter any moment. He looked at the creature in fear. At a closer glance he seemed to be a man made of ice. A crown sat upon his head and a frown rested on his lips. Jon tore his hand away and he was brought back to the cave. His screams not subsiding. He still felt immense pain shooting up his forearm but the cold was now gone.

He looked around to see Sansa crying in the corner trying to break free of Beric's grasp on her shoulders. Thoros was next to him though he too seemed to be shaken, his eyes wide and watching Jon as though he turned into one of those walking dead men. The fire that rested beneath his feet had spread to his bag that he laid down next to him. He didn't know what possessed him but he quickly reached for it ignoring the flames that licked across his hands. Jon emptied it grasping the dragon egg at the bottom. His hand was apparently cut open again, for his hand smeared blood across the sides as he held it. "No." Jon whispered. The egg caught flame and before he knew what was happening the flame traveled down the egg and a large crack shot up the middle, the smaller cracks that were once there began to fall off.

Before he could put out the flames the egg gave off a great burst of light. He shut his eyes guarding his pupils from the brightness that his egg exhumed. He heard shouts and cries of pain. And when the light died down he looked around suddenly to see the flames gone. The Brotherhood all gasped at once. He looked to see Beric on one knee his hands gripping his sword which planted itself in the dirt. Sansa looked to be focused on his shoulder, and when he looked to see what caught her eyes. He knew why she looked so amazed. On his shoulder rested four tiny little legs that held the weight of a creature out of legend. All black with a red tinge smeared across its wings. A dragon.

The dragon gave a small screech and Jon turned his eyes to see the brotherhood all kneeling swords drawn in the same fashion as Lord Beric. Sansa still hadn't moved but when Jon tried to move, he felt the caress of tough skin across his cheek. He turned and saw the little dragon nuzzling him. He lifted his hand gently and gazed the tips of his fingers across the little one's head. The dragon purring in content. He had done the impossible. A dragon had been born.

* * *

Daenerys Targaryen

The winds were kind. That was all she thought about as her ship had set sail across Slaver's Bay. It was a beautiful night to be at sea. For her at least. Her followers not so much. The dothraki were not people who found the oceans to be kind. The waters were brutal to them. Mainly due to superstition. They found the waters to be undeniably evil. Anything their horses couldn't travel across or drink was enough to make them queasy. They still traveled for her. The great Khaleesi, the mother of dragons. Empty titles for now, not till she gathered an army and took back her home. She smiled watching her dragons rest inside their little cages. They were quite cute and adorable now. But soon they would be large and dangerous. Bringing Westeros to heel.

She was nervous to join the great wars for the throne. It would take a great deal of time and effort, but she could do it. She needed to have faith in herself and her dragons. The world hadn't seen dragons in over a century but she changed that the moment she walked into the flames.

She looked out her window and to her amazement viewed a comet. It was large, that much was true she saw it tear it's way across the clouds above her. It was all black almost blending in completely with the night sky. But the tale of the rock was breathing dark red flames. It was beautiful. Perhaps this was a great sign. A sign of the beginning of her reign as queen.

She knew this was her destiny. From the stories of her ancestor Aegon the conqueror, he brought three dragons to Westeros, and now she was going to do the same. Viserys used to tell her stories of her family's down fall. It began with her brother Rhaegar and his lack of faith in her father. Viserys told her Rhaegar was the one who conjured all the problems that led to her father's death. Viserys made it clear that Rhaegar was no true dragon. But then again, he wasn't either.

She loved Viserys and although she was relieved over his death, she still tried her best to remember the brother who used to love her. He protected her when she was but a babe. He kept her fed and constantly told her stories of their mother and father. The great king Aerys who was betrayed by his own King's Guard Jamie Lannister. Then the stories of the usurper Robert Baratheon and his band of dogs. The Starks. She still remembered her brother's anger towards them.

'A pack of dogs who usurped their king and brought war to anyone with the name Targaryen.' He used to say. Viserys was a fool over some things but others she just took faith in his words. The Baratheons, Starks, Lannisters, all of them would pay for their treachery with fire and blood.

* * *

Jon Snow

To say he was ready to see Robb now was a lie. They hadn't left the brotherhood as of yet. It was now dark out, and they would reach Robb by tomorrow at midday. How was he supposed to explain this? He looked at the small little dragon resting in his lap sleeping. Sansa found it to be a gift from the gods. He didn't deny her, how else could he explain what happened? A dragon brought from the flames. The brotherhood all bent the knee to him, and he wasn't so sure that he deserved it. Of course it was his birthright. But, he wasn't just some prince. He was a former member of the greatest group of assassins the world had ever known. He had killed, tortured, and learned how to act as a human weapon. How could he be a king? Though a dragon certainly gave the brotherhood a reason to kneel. Sansa too, the moment she tried he grabbed her shoulders and shook his head. She understood his hesitance. Nobody knew who he truly was.

A dragon had been born, and he already felt love and a need to protect him. He named him shadow for his black scales and of course his former allegiance to the league. He destroyed the remnants of the league but could not forget what they had taught him. They may have had different motives and morality than him, but they also taught him how to fight, how to act, how to see the world as it was. He just disagreed on their plans to fix said world. Though the flames brought his dragon into the world, it also gave him that vision.

He had heard the stories of the others. Old nan had told it to the children since he was but a boy. The long night and the white walkers. Creatures whose entire purpose in life was to end humanity. During the age of heroes, the walkers were defeated and pushed back beyond into the lands of always winter. His ancestor Bran the builder had created the wall with the purpose to guard the realms of men from the monsters beyond the wall. He never believed it of course. Well at least he didn't believe the notion that they still existed. Until now. When he went outside earlier after the cracking of the egg for fresh air, he tried passing off what he saw as a hallucination. It still didn't explain his pain surrounding his forearm. He pushed his sleeves from his tunic up to massage the area of pain, and what he saw had opened his eyes as Thoros said.

A scar in the shape of a hand. The scar wasn't like his other ones. They weren't red and healing. This was almost like a tattoo. A blue imprint left on his arm. When he saw that he knew they existed. Whatever that vision was, it was real. He began to remember the stories of the Night King and his army of undead. That had to be him. He had that icy crown perched on his head and that group of corpses that surrounded him. The white walkers were real.

Before they left he found himself with Thoros, Beric, Edric, and Sansa speaking of what he saw.

"I told you the lord of light had plans for you within the flames Jon Snow….I just didn't know how important they were." Thoros said sipping his rum.

Sansa remained quiet but observant of Jon's reaction. She obviously was waiting Jon to tell them.

"What did you see in the flames lad?" Beric asked gripping his shoulder tightly.

He shivered. He thought fear was gone from his heart, but what he saw sent chills down his spine. He wasn't afraid to die, nor was he afraid to fight the ungodly forces he saw. He was afraid for everyone else. His family. His uncle Benjen was right in the center of the most dangerous place in all the world, and he had no idea of what was coming.

"I had a vision. I was transported beyond the wall." Jon whispered out. Sansa didn't look as convinced as Thoros and Beric. They seemed almost expectant of his reply.

"I was in the land of always winter, the winds were vicious and the cold was deadly. But that wasn't what had me screaming… I saw a group of figures in the distance so I walked over to them. They weren't men. They were walking corpses of wildlings and men of the Night's Watch. They had bright blue eyes and most of them were mere skeletons standing upright. I walked past them and saw a creature of pure ice. He matched the description of the white walkers." Jon shuddered.

Thoros nodded while Beric's eyes widened. "What did they do?" he asked intently.

"The walker had a crown on his head, he gripped my forearm and I screamed. It was like needles embedding themselves into my skin, I felt all the warmth from my body escape." Jon breathed out. Pulling his sleeve up to show them. They all gasped Sansa included.

"He marked you." Thoros whispered. "They are real."

Jon nodded. "When I came out of the vision.. I don't know what took over me but I felt a pull towards the egg, and you know the rest." Jon sighed.

"You're a major piece in the war to come Jon Snow. A vessel of the lord of light to shine against his one true enemy." Beric announced. He looked at Jon with sheer gratitude and loyalty.

"What enemy is that?" Jon asked curiously. His hands were shaking now. This all seemed ubsord to him. But he knew what he saw and that mark opened his eyes.

"Death…" Beric said

"Death is the true enemy. We must fight him with all our might and protect those who can not protect themselves. We can keep others alive, we can protect those we love and those who can not fight like we can. I speak for the entire brotherhood when I say that we are yours to command. Our loyalty is to you. You have our swords and I know you yearn to return to your brother… We can help you and your family seek justice. All we ask in return is the will to tell your story, and fight for the living." Beric gripped Jon's hand tightly. Jon returned his grasp.

He remembered something similar uttered by an old friend. The will to act meant everything.

"I won't forget what I saw my lord. If you truly pledge your loyalty to me I ask to gather your men and make for Castle Black. Gain as much information as I can and relay it back to me. My Uncle Benjen will surely trust you if you tell him who sent you." Jon said.

They all nodded. "We will prepare our men to do as you ask. I'm still curious as to how you were able to hatch the egg. Those with the blood of old valyria were the only ones I knew could perform such a feat. Not only that, that dragon is drawn to you. He seeks your affection." Thoros chimed in.

Jon sighed. "I ask you keep this between us." Sansa gasped.

"Jon are you sure?" She whispered. Grasping his sleeve.

Jon nodded to her. She let go of his sleeve and remained at his side grasping his hand. Jon squeezed her hand to prepare himself.

"Shadow answers to me and seeks my affection because of the blood of my father." Jon solemnly said. His gaze landing on the dragon who was perched resting peacefully on his knapsack.

"Lord Stark had kept my heritage sheltered under the lie of me being his bastard son. He lied to protect me. I have Stark blood from my mother's side. His sister Lyanna." Jon whispered.

Edric's eyes widened as did Thoros and Beric. "Lyanna Stark? But that would mea-" Edric began

"Yes. My real father was Rhaegar of house Targaryen. They were wed in secret and my mother had my uncle promise to protect me from Robert's never ending quest of genocide. That was the reason I left Westeros. To run from the truth. But after what I saw in King's Landing and that vision of madness. Perhaps the truth is what the world needs." Jon said smiling at Sansa.

Sansa smiled back. Squeezing his hand.

"My lor-.. I mean you grace I-"

Jon raised his hand at Edric. "No need for that. I would prefer to keep this between us. My family still doesn't know of my parentage and I plan to keep this secret till the time is right." Jon looked at them with pleading eyes.

"No matter how you want us to address you, you have our swords and our loyalty. No matter what you choose to do." Beric smiled.

Thoros nodded along with him. "Your blood gave you the means to bring back a legend that can truly strike fear into the one true enemy. You may not want it, but you are the King these lands need. A prince who was promised to bring the dawn." Thoros smiled.

Jon smiled back. "Thank you, unfortunately my sister and I must make haste towards the Crag. Please keep me informed as soon as you can of what you can gather from the watch." Jon grasped each of their hands in farewell. Sansa too had thanked them for their kindness as they offered them food for the road.

He clasped his armor on and added a fur cape that tied over it. With Shadow hidden inside his warm furs. They set off for the night with speed like the wind. It was time to return to his family. And Jon prayed for guidance. For this was a reunion that would shape Westeros forever.

* * *

**So I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. I wanted the brotherhood to be apart of this story, I was always intrigued by their concept and I found them to be very cool and a breath of fresh air in the show and the books. No Lady Stoneheart will not be in this story. Sorry! I don't think she would be welcomed to begin with lol. I promise more insight and dialogue will be coming next chapter over Shadow and how Sansa and the rest of the northerners will take to it. It will be a really conversation and dialogue based chapter next. Then we have some battles coming. This next chapter I will take a lot of time perfecting. I will need to with all the reveals, and secrets being omitted. I've always had trouble coming up with dialogue and adding it into my writing. I need to work on it. I know. So I promise this next chapter will be a lot more thought out. Maester Aemon will be coming along with Sam and the watch. Dany will also have chapters coming with a lot more insight. Her character is so tricky to write considering the show ruined her ending and her build up. There will not be a mad queen Dany in this story. Nor will the walkers be used as filler. I loved the battle of winterfell in season 8 but to me it was disappointing considering all the build up for it only to last one episode. Arya will be coming too. She will definitely need to see Jon. Especially with Jon now being the assassin. The Dornish will be very tricky, but I have a good idea for how they will see Jon considering his parentage reveal coming. No set date when the next chapter is coming. I didn't think I would even have this chapter out till next week lol. I played poker till like 1 am with a lot of friends and afterwards just got some inspiration to write last night. So please leave some comments, what you liked this chapter, and what you're excited for. I don't think I will add a robin or a butler into this fic. It's not a guarantee but I kind of like Jon as the lone man amongst his knowledge of the league. Does not mean there won't be a lot of references coming though. I've got a lot planned and can't wait for more. Thank you all for keeping faith and the many congratulations on my wedding coming up. I love her to death and she is truly a rock I lean on. She definitely inspires me with my writing. It's been hard with me just getting back from deployment and I will be getting out of the airforce in January so I've been working hard to prepare myself to go back to school. That does not mean I will be neglecting my writings. Also once this story is complete I will begin working on the winds of change for all those who enjoyed the idea of that story model. I want to re write it completely and really get that story perfect. I find it a very good idea and who doesn't like time travel? Be prepared for a kick ass next chapter and pray for the warriors to lose along with the bruins. Two teams I can not stand. Till next time! **


	8. Chapter 8

**I aplogize profusely for such a long wait, life lately has been getting in the way of my writing. I'm outprocessing from the military, I'm trying to get all my school stuff taken care of before I get out, and my fiance and I are planning a wedding on top of preparing to buy a house the moment I'm back home. Then I got word that my base had a hockey team that would be going to Vegas this coming month for a tournament, so I've never mentioned before that I played Ice hockey my entire life. The moment I heard that I joined the team and I practice every weekend. It has been amazing to work hard and be back on the ice every week. But that doesn't mean I've even remotely given up on this story. I love where my ideas have taken me. I've been working out the plot line in my head for some upcoming chapters. I hit a bit of a writers block as far as how I want to add in the league into the plot of game of thrones, if the Joker will make an appearance in future chapters (which I've decided that I want to add the actual dark knight into all this) and where Jon will be going throughout his adventures and his character development. I won't be spoiling anything but there will be alot more action and big plot changes to the story in upcoming chapters. Unlike before though, I won't be giving a date for the next update. I will promise however that I'm not done, I won't be giving up on this, and all the support, comments, favorites, and feedback has been amazing to see. So I thank you everybody! Don't fret also about future reveals and things of that nature. I have a plan all lined up. Again though I apologize for the wait, I don't feel awful about it because hockey does mean alot to me and it will be so nice to go to Vegas and play for the first time in a long time. Especially because I'll get to play some poker too. I've been a bit preoccupied with fantasy football too lol, anybody getting screwed with that? my team is pretty good but injuries are killing me right now and my steelers honestly are not looking good. I mean a win against Miami is a win, but with the way they're playing I don't see us making the wildcard. I will give you guys some food for thought, Arya will come later, I'll keep Dany at bay till the right time, reveals of Jon, his dragon, and his former life with the league will come later also. The Night King and the white walkers will not be a main priority but will be eventually brought up and talked about in the future. Also don't forget that the league will be coming into focus soon enough. Thank you all and without further hinderance. Here is chapter 8!**

**p.s. I plan to add this story onto AO3. I also plan to rewrite some chapters and make corrections as I see fit. The plot will remain the same but grammar, spelling, and extra dialogue on top of some extra eyes to see the story will help me in the future. So I'll give you guys and girls a holler when I decide to upload it. Probably around chapter ten though.  
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* * *

Tyrion Lannister

The battle of black water bay was gruesome business. Death was not something Tyrion was used to seeing. Sure a public execution or a trial by combat was seeing death first hand. Public executions were typically quick business, a mercy to someone who was sentenced. While a trial by combat was a fierce battle of skill and survival, rarely did either of those two display any form of torture and suffering. They were both quick and after a moment peaceful.

What happened a number of days ago in that bay was neither of those things. The screams of terror as the Baratheon soldiers were burned alive was something akin to misery. He didn't feel guilty. War was war. If the situations were reversed surely Stannis and his soldiers would rejoice to see his head on the ramparts of King's Landing.

His face still hurt even with milk of the poppy. He barely was able to recall what happened. He led the Lannister army across the mud gate dismantling Stannis's attempt to breach the gate. They had won rather quickly, shouts of joy and cheers coming from the soldiers echoed across the bloody field. "Half-man! Half-man!" They all shouted.

For the first time since his father gave him the position as interim hand of the king he felt as if he should take pride. Pride in who he was. Though it was short lived when the remaining forces of the Baratheon army fucked them from behind. The battle was perilous. Thousands had died, the grass was soaked with blood, the beaches on fire. It was hell. Then he felt the blade of a King's guard cross his face. Creating a nasty scar.

It was his sister's doing. He would be stupid if he thought otherwise. With him gone she would not only feel some sick twisted form of happiness, but her devil of a son would have no one to control his impulses. Joffrey would be without resistance.

Of course that was a partial lie. His father now held the leash over the king's neck. Anyone who thought Joffrey was the world's most powerful man was truly deluded. His father Tywin held all the power. He had the mind for it. He had the army. But most importantly it was his gold that kept the boy on that throne. All that was missing of his father's illustrious reputation was an heir. His brother was still contained by the Starks.

Jamie would remain their prisoner save for some heroic escape out of their clutches. Without any of the Stark girls they had no leveridge. With Sansa Stark stolen right from under their noses and Arya Stark missing since Ned Stark's execution what did they have?

His quest for alliances wasn't successful, but it wasn't a total failure either. He had betrothed his niece Myrcella to the second son of Doran Martell Tristane. It wasn't a direct alliance by any means. The Dornish wouldn't be sending their armies to support the Lannisters anytime soon. But it was a way to hold them at bay for the time being.

Perhaps in time the feud between their two houses could be remedied.

He felt out of place at the moment between the glares of his sister and his father's emotionless expression staring directly at him. The small council today was nothing short of a lion's den. His father at the head of the table, his sister to his right. Lord Varys and Petr Baelish sitting with them. Mace Tyrell was the only one he had yet to become accustomed to. Though the stories he heard of the man's stupidity wasn't a good way to view him starting this council meeting.

"Will the king be joining us today Lord Hand?" The lord of highgarden questioned meekly. Tyrion wasn't anyone to laugh at another man's looks. Certainly not with his status as a scarred up dwarf. But who couldn't crack a smile seeing someone as large as him wearing something as colorful as a tunic covered in Tyrell roses. It was something he would expect to see from his daughter Margery.

"Not today, the king has informed me of his plans to spend time with his betrothed at the moment. I will personally inform him of our plans and finding throughout the kingdoms once this meeting is adjourned.

Tyrion had to hold in his laughter seeing Mace Tyrell's expression.

"It is a joy to know my lovely little rose Margery will be well looked after by his grace." He bellowed out with stars in his eyes.

Tyrion had to look down to avoid any glances his way. His lips cracking almost giving way to laughter. If Mace was lucky Joffrey would find Margery boring and only spend time with her whenever it was required of him. After seeing what he did to Sansa Stark he couldn't imagine seeing another girl subject to such treatment.

"Yes I'm sure his grace is thrilled to find love during such dark times. Though I do believe we have much to discuss today my lords. Especially regarding the Stark forces now gathering for an attack on Casterly Rock."

'Right to business as usual' Tyrion rolled his eyes.

His father was someone who held power over just about everyone. Not just in terms of might, but in attitude. The man had a mind for manipulation, politics, and positions of strength. Lord Tywin maybe considered cruel and unpleasant by absolutely everyone across Westeros. But there was no denying he was made to be hand of the king. He didn't inspire honor or devotion, but he did inspire fear.

'And fear is exactly what got us into this situation.' Tyrion thought.

"What news Lord Varys?" the old lion wasn't wasting any time to formulate a strategy.

"The host of northmen gathers strong at crack claw point, though it seems they're awaiting their newly made ally with the Dornish. Dozens of ships departed Dorne carrying a large host of ten thousand men led by Prince Oberyn Martell." The spider softly whispered.

"That's impossible! I secured a betrothal between my niece and prince Tristane a moon ago." He was shocked.

'They lied' He shakingly thought.

"It seems the Martell family had previously arranged a betrothal between Arya Stark and the young prince." Varys calmly stated.

He hesitantly turned to see his sister's murderous gaze locked on him.

If there was one thing he knew about Cersei it was her love and will to do anything to see her children safe. Myrcella was her only daughter. She wanted him killed for something as mundane as questioning Joffrey. What would she do knowing he unknowingly gave her daughter to a family hell bent on seeing the Lannisters suffer.

His father certainly wasn't pleased with such news. Pinching the bridge of his nose, as Cersei began to rant here and there about how stupid he was and the cost of such a betrayal.

"Enough! Send a raven to the Martells, If any act is committed against Myrcella it will be returned tenfold." Lord Tywin commanded.

"You will let this go unpunished? My daughter, the princess of the seven kingdoms is now held hostage thanks to that little monster sitting across from you." Cersei angrily pointed at Tyrion.

Tywin simply awaited the ends of her wailings. "You are just as much to blame. Your brother negotiated for an ally, that ally in question betrayed the crown. But why bother searching for allies in the first place?" Tywin questioned while Cersei quieted.

"If Ned Stark had been left alive instead of executed, we could have negotiated peace with the Starks. Even after his execution we could have found a way of gaining Jamie back with the Stark girls. Now both are gone and we have no leveridge."

Cersei remained quiet. "I couldn't stop the King from passing judgement on a guilty man."

"Then your son requires better advisors. That sole judgement as you like to call it has given us a multitude of enemies who at the moment could ban together under one banner. I trust my brother to hold the rock till we gather our forces for an attack on their siege. Once we break them Myrcella will be returned right where she belongs. We will speak on the morrow, I have much work to finish."

The small council all began to leave except for Tyrion. He needed some form of understanding between him and his father.

"Go on. You have something you want to ask so be quick about it." Tywin stated while running through some of his ledgers.

"If the North succeeds in taking Casterly Rock what is our plan?" He nervously questioned.

Tywin dropped his quill and chuckled softly. "They won't take the rock. I have plans for the boy now called king in the north."

Tyrion was intrigued. His father wasn't dumb. The north alongside the Martells amassed a large fighting force. They also had Myrcella which would take a great deal of bargaining to gain her back.

"And would it be uncouth of me to ask what those plans are?" He replied curiously.

"Uncouth? No. but having a whore in my bed while I was out fighting a war would be considered as such. Searching for allies with a family hell bent on ending the name Lannister would be considered uncouth." Tywin looked at him with his steel gaze.

He was used to this. Searching for affection or recognition from his father was like fucking a whore hoping his prowess alone would be payment enough.

"It was a mistake, I understand that. I underestimated Doran Martell's ambition and anger towards our family. We don't gain allies or make peace with friends, we do with our enemies no matter how angered they are." Tyrion cleverly retorted.

Tywin raised his brow. "Your clever. Far more clever than I give you credit for. Though being clever doesn't make you a good hand. You must also have fear. Doran Martell is not afraid of us. Not when he has little to lose and everything to gain. If Robb Stark and his army take the Rock and eventually march on Kingslanding he has a direct tie to the throne if the city falls."

Tyrion shook his head. "How? Varys has made it clear the Stark boy is already married, if he were to take the throne, the Martells wouldn't have any line to the King other than his sister married to his son Tristane."

"True but you underestimate the lack of ambition the Stark boy has. The Starks want to be independent from the crown, not gain it. With the Iron throne left to whomever shall claim it. But back to your question, I have gained contact with someone willing to take care of our problem in the north. It won't be long till the North has no leader and our armies envelope them. Now let me take care of whatever problems you left for me since I was gone." Tywin looked back down at whatever ledgers his mind was preoccupied with.

Tyrion left the small council meeting with more questions rather than answers.

* * *

Jon Snow

The walk through the northern camp was strange to say the least. The moment they stepped into the vicinity, there were guards upon them. Each of them holding a sword to his throat. Sansa snapped and told them who Jon was. The result was the absolute embarrassment of said guards. The men profusely apologized which Jon of course waved off as nothing more than them doing their duty.

Though their strange glances at him hadn't stopped. Especially considering he hadn't budged or moved when their swords were kissed against his neck.

The whispers he heard as he was led to the main tents of the lords and his brother the king were of wonder and awe.

"He looks just like lord Stark."

"How did he escape King's Landing?"

"Where has he been all this time?"

Jon paid them no mind. His secrets as always would remain his. Well... most of them would. He wanted to keep Shadow a secret to everyone. The last thing he needed was talks of a dragon circulating throughout Westeros. The last time a dragon had been birthed the Targaryens ruled supreme, and it would have people talking. Especially considering that the only family in Westeros to possess dragons were the Targaryens.

It was strange. That family he always read about in books and stories were his family. His line didn't just stop with wolves but dragons as well. He now joined the ranks of past Targaryens who owned dragons. Well not owned, dragons weren't some pet or slave he owned. They were partners in a way. Connected.

Shadow could read his emotions quite well. Not only that, but he seemed to understand his thoughts and feelings. He couldn't hide the tiny dragon inside a northern camp without giving away who he was. He was thinking of perhaps purchasing a basket, or a cage of some sort and keeping it concealed upon his horse.

Shadow had other plans. He nuzzled Jon's cheek as if to say he'd be back. And flew off into a small looking cave that resembled a burrow they passed along the way. Sansa had stopped and tried getting the dragon to come, but he quickly told her Shadow would be fine on his own till this all was cleared up. He was a dragon not a dog. He could fend for himself for a day or two. And while he did worry for the dragon he already grew to love, he would always feel whenever Shadow needed him.

He would need to read as much as possible regarding the anatomy, history, and overall facts of dragons. The more he knew the better things would be. Especially considering this isn't some regular dragon. This came from Pajan. A place he knew very little about when it came to its history of war and dragons. They could be completely different for all he knew.

Perhaps it was the Targaryen blood that coursed through his veins that allowed such a bond to grow.

Then again, he was also a Stark. The blood of the first men also belonged to him. Stories of skin changers belonged to his family. There hasn't been an example of such a feat for a long time, but perhaps he could be the first.

They made their way through the growing crowd of soldiers and squires to find a large tent with the sigil of a direwolf displayed across the entrance. This had to be Robb's tent. It was larger than all the rest while remaining more modest than a king should be.

A large man broke free from the crowd and mustered a large bellow of a laugh. Jon and Sansa both turned to see the great Jon umber. His enormous size and northern features making it hard not to recognize him.

Jon remembered stories growing up as a child of the man who was said to be the strongest in all the north. Lord Stark always said he had never met a man more powerful than Lord Umber. Other than his friend Robert Baratheon.

"If I was drinking as I had last night I would've imagined the ghost of a young Ned Stark walking his daughter throughout our humble little war camp!" He bellowed out.

A hearty and happy chuckle echoing for all to hear. Everyone in the crowd smiled obviously now realizing who Jon had to be.

Jon simply smiled. While Sansa squeezed his hand gently.

"It's good to see you again Lord Umber, though the circumstances could be much better."

The large man sighed. "Aye lad, we were all in an uproar over your father's betrayal. But I'm certain he would be proud of the man you've become! You risked your neck to bring back your sister, and for that you take after him!" His voice blasting across the line of soldiers and lords.

Would he though? Would his father really be proud of who he became. Sure saving Sansa and coming back to help is admirable. But would Ned Stark truly admire and be proud of who Jon was? He wasn't too sure.

An assassin. A trained killer. He was apart of the most terrifyingly secret societies known to mankind. A society of genocidal maniac. He highly doubted the honorable Ned Stark could forego such an allegiance.

"My lady, I can speak for all northerners when I say your father's death will not go unpunished. Your lady mother will be thrilled to see you." Lord Jon bowed his head.

Sansa smiled widely. "Is she and my brother here my lord?" She excitingly called out.

Lord Jon moved to the side seeing the flaps to the main tent move open. After all this time and there they were. He wasn't too excited to see Lady Stark. How could he be? But he was happy for Sansa. She could be with her mother again.

He was a bit jealous. How couldn't he be? It was the one thing he desired more than anything. He wished he could've seen her. To hear about her. Perhaps once this was all said and done he could visit his uncle Benjen at the wall. He would be able to tell him all he knew of his mother.

Jon glanced once more at Lady Stark.

Though remaining beautiful for her age she was slowly feeling the curse of the stress appearing upon her hair and skin. Though still displaying that southern lady like appearance. Her hair was greying upon the sides while creases of what could only be anxiety appeared on her cheeks.

It didn't take long for her wandering gaze to fall upon Sansa. Tears forming in her eyes.

"Sansa!" She cried out breaking free from the small confines of the lords behind her and bursting forward. A cry of "mother!" Bursted from Sansa.

Red hair flew back as she ran forward being enveloped into her mother's arms. Jon smiled. He never liked Lady Stark but he did respect her love and commitment to her children. The sight was enough to bring the crowd of northerners to tears. Cheers could be heard for the two Stark women.

While the reunion was emotional, sweet, and happy. Jon couldn't help but notice the flaps of the tent opened up. His overzealous mind screaming out who it was. Out stepped his brother accompanied by a woman who was dressed in northern garments, though displayed a beauty of a foreign variety.

The entire camp was quiet as the muffled sound of sobs echoed across tall yellow grass of the Westerlands. Sansa broke free from her mother to then launch herself at Robb. Lady Catelyn wiped her tears and smiled obviously thrilled to see the reuniting siblings.

Once the reunion of Sansa and Robb ended it remained quiet. Robb walked forward and finally his eyes settled on Jon.

Obviously taking him in as if it was for the first time.

Robb looked as he always had. Though he was a bit broader with growing muscle underneath his steel plated armor, and a beard growing somewhat fully, he looked as he always had, a true lord.

Finally Robb smiled. "You've gotten bigger."

Jon smirked. "I wish I could say the same of you, you still look a bit green even with that armor on."

The entire crowd of soldiers gasped at the clear lack of formality to the now King in the North.

Though Robb chuckled. "New haircut too? I'm sure the girls will cry from the north all the way to Dorne over your lack of locks!"

Jon remained at attention but for the first time in a very long time he felt at home.

"I see you've copied my beard." Jon gestured to his own.

After the long lasting jokes at one another's expense, Robb walked forward and pulled Jon in for a hug immediately returned.

"I've missed you brother." Robb whispered out as his grip tightened.

"As I have you brother." Jon gave Robb one last pat before noticing the woman who walked with Robb earlier. She rested her hand on Robb's arm in a way that just screamed out who she was.

This was Robb's queen. She was pretty, that much was certain. He could see why Robb chose her. But it didn't make any sense. She looked to be from somewhere in Essos. So any form of alliance was out the window.

"This is my wife and queen lady Talisa Stark, she is a very successful healer amongst our camp." Robb gestured to her proudly.

She held out her hand which Jon took and kissed gently. "It is a pleasure to meet you my queen" Jon bowed.

She smiled. "No need for such formalities, we are family."

Jon smiled back, she was polite and formal, but by her appearance she obviously was willing to get her hands dirty. She displayed what most Northern ladies did. A willingness to avoid pretty words and soft spoken formalities. A strong woman amongst strong men.

Jon tried to avoid any form of contact with Lady Stark until the group of northerners diminished. She and Robb both looked as if they were ready to ask all kinds of questions regarding just how had he brought back Sansa. But that was to be discussed in private without prying ears.

"My brother Jon Snow has not only secured an alliance with Dorne, but has also brought back my sister Sansa Stark back to where she belongs! Her family! The North welcomes both of them. The North remembers! Casterly Rock will now face the force of two wolves of Winterfell, and the bastard King Joffrey along with Tywin Lannister will face justice!"

He shouted to the entire crowd of soldiers and Lords. It was a clear morale boost for the chants of "King in the North" was shouted across the vast numbers of tents.

* * *

As the Stark family made their way into a more private area of the tent. He finally felt more at ease. He was finally home.

They all settled in nicely. Jon was given food and offered wine, which of course he turned down. There was much to speak of and little time to do so.

Robb sat at the head of the table, while Lady Catelyn and his wife sat next to him. Sansa was currently enjoying the presence of being close with her mother again. While Robb seemed very intent on learning more of what had transpired since he left Winterfell.

"We're all grateful for what you've done Jon. You've brought us the Dornish, and was able to bring back our sister. I know this must be the last question you'd like to hear, but how were you able to sneak into King's Landing? Sansa had to be guarded by just about the entire Red Keep."

This would be difficult to maneuver without giving away all he had learned. He trusted Robb, he really did. But there wasn't anyone he could trust to tell of his former allegiance, at least not yet.

"It wasn't an easy feat, the entire castle was on high alert since word broke out of Stannis preparing an invasion. But, our sister was less guarded than others within the castle walls. I was able to sneak in during the hour of the wolf and kill off one of Joffrey's guards, I had a ship awaiting for us the moment I was able to guide Sansa out unnoticed throughout the night."

Robb was surprised. His eyebrows raised.

"That is quite the tale. I always remembered your skill with a blade, but defeating a King's Guard? That's amazing Jon!" Robb exclaimed.

Jon nodded humbly. "He wasn't Sir Jamie Lannister, the Lannisters are bleeding for good men to guard the keep at the moment. Most of their men were with Tywin Lannister's forces I can only presume."

Robb sighed. "Yes I gathered that. We have been winning this war on the battlefield, but Tywin continues to have the advantage with the might of his army still remaining intact. Now word of his alliance with the Tyrell forces have met my ears, winning battles seem pointless until we are able to take Casterly Rock."

Robb had changed, the carefree nature of the heir to Winterfell was gone, replaced by a stern military leader preparing his next move.

"Well enough talks about battle and war, just where have you been all this time Jon?"

He could see Robb was trying to subtly ask why he decided to leave. It was a fair curiosity. He and Robb were always close, Arya as well. They would ride together, learn the foundations of Westeros and all the traditions of the North together from maester Luwin, learn to fight. Leaving must have had some affect on his brother.

"At first, my plan was to go to Essos, take up arms with sell swords and make a name for myself. When I sailed from White Harbor I had every intention of doing so. But we hit a strong storm that washed me up on the shores of a land called Pajan. There I met the leader of a mercenary group and joined his ranks looking for some form of guidance and semblance of discipline."

Sansa and Lady Catelyn looked on curiously. Sansa especially. He hadn't really discussed much of his past and what he was doing after he left Winterfell. But what caught Jon's eye was the look his brother's wife was sending his direction.

It was a look Jon knew all too well. She played it off as a curiosity, but rather her initial reaction was fear. Who knew just what she was afraid of? Perhaps she had heard rumors of Pajan from tall tales told by the traders and sailors who were brave enough to venture into the unknown lands.

"Pajan? I've never heard of it. But I'm glad you returned. Gods know we needed it. I'm sure you and Sansa are exhausted from your adventures and journey from King's Landing. Go get some rest, we'll talk later…" Robb trailed off.

Jon nodded curtly. And was getting ready to leave. "Jon." Robb called out quietly.

He turned and looked to see his brother smiling. "It really is good to have you back."

Jon smiled back. "It's good to be back."

That night was filled with merriment. Drinking, food, celebration, dancing. Jon enjoyed the food and partook in drinking with some of his brother's soldiers. But kept to himself most of the night. Especially considering the Dornish had arrived shortly after he and Sansa had.

Jon talked as much as he could with Robb but couldn't blame him for the lack of privacy. He was a king, and a married one at that. His time was precious. Where as Jon's was far more expendable.

It was tempting to call for shadow, but he could somehow feel his presence. He was sleeping soundly. Somehow he knew.

So now it was just him outside the main groupings of the tents. Enjoying some of the silence. The wind was blowing. The chilled air bringing him back to the days he missed. Back in the North. At Winterfell.

Now hearing of Winterfell being nothing more than a stomping grounds for the Ironborn, it was a shitty dream.

Jon felt something watching him, consciously resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. He turned to find a pair of red eyes glancing at him with curiosity. The eyes were connected to a head that reached his stomach.

Jon defensively stepped back but the moonlight shined upon the creature showing a white direwolf. He was beautiful, that much was evident. Albino looking animals always seemed to look beautiful and unique compared to their normal counterparts. Jon held his hand out cautiously but also feeling excitement.

The creature must have felt his excitement and trotted over to him rubbing his head into his hand. Licking whatever salt remained on his palm from the roasted pig that was served tonight.

A laugh escaped him. It was kind of funny how symbolic it was to have a dragon and a direwolf receive his affection.

"He's followed Robb's wolf all the way from the north were your father found him and his siblings." Jon glanced back already knowing whose voice it belonged to.

"This is the first time he's allowed anyone to pet or come close to him."

Jon simply nodded. Ruffling the wolf's fur behind his ears. "He's quiet" Jon simply uttered.

Lady Catelyn walked over to sitting down on one of the nearby tree stumps. Keeping her distance but continually watching the pair.

"You know after all that's occurred. Ned's death, Sansa and Arya being hostages, losing my father, Robb going to war against the crown. I've blamed it on the Lannisters, but recently I began to blame myself." She sniffed as the wind began to pick up.

"How could I feel any form of hate and disgust with the Lannisters for their treachery, when I myself couldn't find it in me to love a motherless child."

Jon glanced at her in what could be described as a growing anger. The direwolf trotted away into the night. Almost sensing the tension in the air.

"All these horrible things that have begotten my family, I truly believe the gods seek retribution of how I treated you. And yet... you still came back to help."

She glanced at him with tears shining in her eyes. Jon looked at her with disdain.

"I didn't come back to help you, I came back to help my family. All these things happening have nothing to do with the Gods." Jon rolled his eyes.

She had tears rolling down her cheeks now. "It has to do with the Lannisters. I saw how the bastard boy commands attention. Not with love, honor, and respect. But through fear and anxiety. The Lannisters are responsible."

She quickly nodded. "I know that." Her eyes dropped to her feet in shame. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry, I blamed you for Ned's fault of straying."

Jon softened. He understood her anger growing up sometimes. He truly did. She saw Jon as the pure representation of his father's betrayal. The one thing that Lord Stark did without honor. All a lie.

"I forgive you." Jon said confidently. He nodded once at her. And began to make his way back to the camp.

"Why? Why would you ever forgive me?" She whispered.

Jon chuckled. "As much as I despise how you treated me, it gave me the motivation to become the man I am today. For that reason alone, I forgive you." She was going to respond.

"But don't think for a second I'll forget. Forgiving and forgetting aren't always intertwined. And this time, they won't ever be. "

Jon walked off to cool his head. Leaving the Lady Stark, alone, confused, and praying to whoever may listen. Jon was angry over remembering the past. But just the mere thought of Catelyn Stark apologizing in tears, made Jon laugh. He wasn't cruel. But it was quite humorous. He had his first sound night of sleep since he left Winterfell all those years ago.

* * *

"The Lannisters have just put Stannis and his army to the sword. Word has it that he's currently sulking off the coast of Dragonstone." Lord Manderly said pointing at the map with his grubby finger.

"Be that as it may, I won't looking for his support in this endeavor. We have all the pieces right now." Robb said gesturing once again to the board.

"We have Sansa and they do not have our other sister to bargain with. We have Jamie Lannister, we have allies with the Dornish. All that's left is us to take the fight to Lord Tywin." Robb said with a smirk.

Jon nodded in understanding. "Casterly Rock even without the majority of his army will not be an easy feat." Jon said.

"But if taken, Lord Tywin and the boy king will need to gather their armies and allies and meet us in the field on our terms. From what I gathered in King's Landing the iron throne belongs to Tywin. His ideas and strategy will continue to be the law."

Robb smiled. "Prince Oberyn, do you have any thoughts on this matter."

Jon looked to see the smirking prince with three girls around his age. The prince was an enigma to him. Though he could also see how he was related to Arianne. They had that same nonchalant but yet teasing and care free attitude.

"The plan is a sound one. Our fleet will perform a blockade of sorts, with our war vessels reigning fire upon their castle walls." The prince pointed to Lannisport.

"Then the remaining of the northern and Dornish army will strike here. Towards the front portion of the gates and towers. We will lay siege to their walls. Blocking them off from any food or resources." Oberyn smirked.

"Just remember our deal your grace." Oberyn's once carefree face resorted to one of anger.

Robb smiled in understanding. "You have my word. The mountain, and whoever gave the order will be yours to do with what you please." The northerners grimaced a bit at that.

Jon realized just what the prince wanted. His step mother was Elia Martell. She was brutally raped and killed along with his half brother and sister at the hands of the mountain. He would need to be there for the day he would see the Gregor Clegane receive retribution.

"Who will lead the vanguard your grace?" Lord umber quickly asked before a dismissal could be uttered.

Robb laughed. "You have my blessing Lord Umber." A chuckle could be heard amongst the Dornish and northern lords.

"I'd still be weary, the rock is as difficult to take as the eyrie. This may be a long drawn out siege, but what worries me is once the siege begins we will all be an easy target if the Lannisters and Tyrells march on us before it's taken."

Jon took a hold of the pieces from King's Landing and brought it across to the Westerlands.

"Calvary and onslaught of soldiers would be our downfall. We will need to dig a mass of trenches. And build Frisian horses all around to prevent such a tactic."

The prince nodded. "I highly doubt the siege will last long enough for their armies to counter. But your brother has the right of it." Oberyn nodded to his brother.

Robb simply smirked. "When did you begin learning advance defensive tactics brother?"

"Reading and studying anything I could get my hands on" Jon stated back.

Jon looked around the room to see a number of lords impressed by the look of it.

"Who rules Casterly Rock in Lord Tywin's stead?" Jon questioned. Pointing towards the great keep on the map.

"Lord Kevan Lannister, Tywin's brother holds it. If your idea is to reason with him, you'd have a better chance at reasoning with the bastard boy on the throne." Lord Umber laughed.

"Who said anything about reasoning with him?" Jon looked to see the perplexed expression on his brother's face.

"Once the siege is in place food and resources begin to be rationed. I expect the Rock to have a vast food supply already prepared for such an endeavor."

Jon once again pointed to the rock. "But if we can infiltrate the Rock while our forces continue their siege, the highborns will give up the keep to prevent their lives." Jon explained.

Laughs and chuckles erupted from the group of lords. Though other than his brother and the prince, Lord Bolton remained silent.

"You may have been able to save the lady Sansa from King's Landing, but they weren't even remotely expecting you. Lord Kevan is a very cautious man, I'd wager you wouldn't make it very far, especially with a vast number of men guarding their keep."

Lord Karstark bellowed.

He wasn't wrong, the art of surprise would be much simpler without the siege being conducted. But this wasn't something entirely impossible with the right planning, and execution.

"What would you propose?" The laughing calmed down due to the silent lord Bolton's question.

Jon looked to Robb for permission. Robb nodded to him.

"If we can fixate Lord Kevan's forces on our own, he would feel threatened enough to lack the men necessary to guard him at all times. Before the siege even begins I would lead a small number of men into the Rock unnoticed, once our armies come into view we strike."

Robb crowned. "Strike how? Assassination is as cursed as kin slaying Jon."

He shook his head. "I'm not suggesting we kill them in their sleep, once we have Lord Kevan and much of the highborns under our control, they will forfeit the castle."

"Or they order their men to attack you out of pride." Robb quickly retorted.

"In war we must take risks, not only is the Rock more formidable in some ways than King's Landing, it holds the Lannister's pride and gold. If you want to meet the old lion in the field, he will come the moment he hears of his home being sieged." Jon looked around the room to see agreement in the eyes of all the lords.

"If there's even a chance we can conquer it without losing a portion of our forces, I say we take it." Jon was testing his luck. He knew.

These were Robb's men, his council. To question or make decisions so swiftly was almost declaring himself as king. Hopefully Robb understood it was nothing more than a desire to help.

"How would you even get into Casterly Rock? It's highly fortified and they will still be on high alert."

"Leave that to me." Jon smirked

If there was one thing Jon learned since his allegiance to the league it was the mind of men. Whether that be a common criminal, or the inner workings of some Highborn Lord's mind. If Jon could get his hands on Kevan Lannister, he wouldn't just get him to talk. He could get him to sing.

The day had remained uneventful save for a good meal his stomach has been lacking. He was used to eating very little over time, especially when your focused on surviving. But sitting down with the other northerners with a pint of ale and a cut of salted pork was perfect.

Sometimes he forgot what it was like to laugh. Having friends wasn't something the league was fond of. Friends kept one's judgement askew.

But after all the merriment it was time for Jon to focus. He prepared his nap sack for the upcoming mission. Filled with all kinds of necessities needed for such an endeavor. It was time for the people of Westeros to see Jon as more than just a man, he had to be a symbol. That symbol would be darkness.


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you for all the support and comments. I can say without a doubt this chapter was probably the hardest to set up. Mainly because I've been so busy as of late so I apologize in advance if it isn't as exciting as everyone had hoped. The next chapter will be the best one coming with Jon's mission, and the beginnings of his journey to become the dark knight. The next chapter will not have a date promised. Mainly because from now on I really want to work on the dialogue and set up for Raj and the league. There will be many surprises coming and action on it's way. Don't worry they are coming. Thank you all for your encoragement and keep them coming. I love writing this and your support is what drives me to make this story better.

* * *

Jon Snow

The small cave like structure was definitely cold, he almost felt some form of regret and guilt for leaving Shadow alone out here. That was until he heard a happy screech and felt a tackling force pumble him to the ground. He laughed quite hysterically when he felt warm scales brushing against his cheek. It was pitch black for the most part. The only light to see was far off outside the cave from the moonlight illuminating the forest beyond the entrance of the cave

Petting Shadow he immediately was surprised. It was only a week or so, and the dragon was growing far faster than he thought possible. When Shadow hatched he was the size of the boot he strapped onto his feet. Well in body mass he was. His wings and elongated neck made him appear far larger than he really was. But, now Shadow was around the size of a small dog now. He couldn't imagine how large Shadow would be in a few weeks time.

'I need to hide you as long as I can till I can explain to everyone just how you were born.` Jon thought stroking the purring dragon. He felt happiness at the moment. It was strange. He never envisioned having something in his life that meant so much to him. Sure his family meant the world to him, but this dragon was something different. It was almost as if Shadow was a connecting source. A being that could understand his emotions.

While his thoughts were circling his mind he tried his best to light a fire, it was becoming so unbelievably frustrating. It must have rained quite a bit over the last few weeks in the Westerlands. Because his kindling was too wet. He was tempted to go back to camp and grab some of his ingredients for the smoke powders and thermite projectiles. They would be quite useful right about now.

'This is becoming so fucking tedious! Just light you son of a bitch!' Jon thought as sweat dripped down his brow. He should have brought a torch with him, but he didn't want any unnecessary attention drawn to him.

Shadow screeched a bit trying to gain his attention. "I get it Shadow, I'm trying here." Jon rolled his eyes.

Finally a small mark appeared from the flint on his steel dagger lighting part of the oak shavings he brought in. he turned to look at Shadow triumphantly. "See, I told you I had this. OH SHIT!" Jon jumped back seeing a pair of red eyes gazing at him. Apparently while he was working the direwolf that seemed to take a liking to him earlier had followed him out here and if he wasn't shitting himself from the surprise he would have laughed. Shadow currently was perched on top of a rock in the corner of the cave with the albino wolf sitting right next to him as if they were lifelong pals. They both looked at him in apparent amusement. Tilting their heads to the side in curiosity.

"Damn it!" Jon muttered to himself. His surprise jump back must have knocked over his Kindling putting out the flame.

Jon quickly grabbed it and tried over and over again trying to get some form of fire to appear, but as before no luck. 'Cmon Fire!'

To his amazement, a quick burst of light appeared on the twigs arranged in a tent like fashion. He turned and saw Shadow breathe out a quick burst of flames igniting the bundle of twigs. What amazed him was the fire wasn't all red. It was a mixture of orange, green, red, and lavender. Meanwhile the direwolf and Shadow looked at him with such contempt.

"I get it." Jon rolled his eyes yet again. He sat down close to the fire. "You're a quiet one aren't you?" Jon laughed as he felt the soft fur run through his fingers as he stroked Shadow's head softly.

"You snuck up on me as though you were some type of wraith…. Or ghosts." the wolf looked on in curiosity. "Ghost?" The wolf sat up and licked him. "So your name is ghost." He chuckled.

"How are you able to breathe fire so quickly?" Jon whispered more so to himself rather than Shadow. He always thought dragons grew slowly over time. There was a lot of speculation with the maesters of the citadel. Most if not all of them believed dragons to be something of an enigma. The Targaryens are one family that nobody could understand. The Citadel would never admit that the Targaryens held magic in their blood. But they would never fully understand why the family had some sort of connection with dragons, and some writings would even say that Targayens had some resistance to fire. Jon saw that bit as only fairy tales, but it wasn't impossible. Especially from what he had seen over time.

Just thinking of the history of Targaryens made him remember his aunt. He felt horrible for not seeking her out. But, there wasn't much he could do. He didn't know her. He hated to judge another based on one's sire. But, at the same time she was the daughter to his grandfather. The mad king.

'What a fucked up world I'm apart of' He thought.

'My grandfather was a deranged psychopath who murdered my other grandfather and uncle in cold blood.'

No matter his thoughts, he couldn't abandon the family he always knew and loved for another. No matter how guilty he felt over it. Hopefully when all this was over he would be able to find his Aunt and rescue her from whatever wasteland she was currently wandering through.

"I'll be back in a short while guys. I have a mission to complete and I promise I'll be back as soon as possible. Please keep each other safe and follow behind the army quietly." Jon whispered out. He understood it was a long shot for Shadow and Ghost to understand exactly what he was trying to say, but Shadow understood him the last time and Ghost seemed to grasp the words that poured from his mouth so it was worth a shot. Things would change very soon. They had to.

* * *

Tyene

The northern camp was a bit of a drawl. The men were loud and obnoxious, the food was nothing short of plain and boring, and they were running out of the Dornish red they brought with them from home. She was happy to help her father and Dorne gain justice for her Aunt Elia. The mere thought of that monster known as the mountain had driven her father to anger she hadn't seen in a long time. The moment he heard that they were going to ally themselves with the North and fight against the Lannisters, he was ecstatic. He told her and her sisters that they would be joining up with the northerners for a siege on Casterly Rock. She was thrilled. Finally Dorne would show its prowess on the battlefield and bring the lions to heel.

This wasn't what she expected though. A long wait and loads of planning, it wouldn't be an issue if there was some form of excitement. The Northerners were more about drinking and talking of the past rather than enjoying the present. It didn't help that the only good looking man amongst the Northerners was that Northern King Robb Stark. He wasn't her type to begin with. He seemed incredibly honorable and lacked that edge that gave Tyene shivers.

Plus the Northern King was already taken, and normally she would find a married man to be an exciting game of seduction. But her attraction didn't really come to fruition with the Stark they called the young wolf. Rather for the one who was missing for years. From what she was told by her cousin Arianne, he was quite the man. According to her, he was the best swordsman she had ever seen. She even mentioned how the Dayne girl made it clear he was on par with the likes of her late brother Arthur. Everyone across the world knew of Ser Arthur Dayne's prowess with a blade. Her father Oberyn mentioned him occasionally in passing, how Ser Arthur was a quiet man who only talked occasionally. He let his fighting do the talking. And according to Arianne and her friend, Jon Snow was currently the best swordsman in the seven kingdoms.

At first she passed it off as only Arianne falling for another strong fighter. But now after seeing the man in person she could see why Arianne had found him to be so enticing. He had the Stark look, dark black hair, grey eyes, and a sharp long face. But he also wasn't like the Starks in a way. He didn't have his hair long, he had it shortened down. Barely passing his ears, but his attitude was what she found so alluring. He was quiet, brooding almost, but during the meeting for taking Casterly Rock his confidence almost oozed out of him. He mentioned sneaking into the Rock and holding the highborns hostage. He didn't gain that attitude from his Stark family that was for sure. Most of the Northerners, his brother included almost seemed horrified by the mere thought of winning a castle without a battle occuring.

She was intrigued by him and now that her father chose her to go with him to infiltrate Casterly Rock, she had plenty of alone time with him. That would be all the time she would need to gain his attention once the battle was won. She laughed when Arianne had told her that Jon was a virgin before she and him slept together. Someone so attractive and strong being alone his whole life was quite humorous. Especially considering Arianne made it clear he was quite skilled in the bedroom.

She sat in the Dornish tent with her sisters, and her father Oberyn discussing the upcoming plans. Downing whatever was left of their wine they brought from the water gardens. Her father seemed almost stressed in a way. He wasn't care free at the moment as he usually was. She understood. He was focused. He wanted justice for their aunt.

"Do you think its a good idea father?" her sister Nymeria asked lazily sitting back in her chair.

"It has merit. From what Arianne had said, this Jon Snow is a great fighter. But great fighters don't necessarily make great stealthy assassins."

They all nodded in understanding. "This Jon Snow seems to be a loner of sorts. He's already turned down his brother's offer of bringing more people with him. I believe his words were "I work alone.". Her father chuckled. "I'll say one thing about him, he has balls. Much more than most of the men I've fought beside."

"According to Arianne he has balls and knows how to use whats connected to them." She japed.

Oberyn laughed. "He is quite the specimen that is for sure. But working alone on this isn't what I had in mind when he offered up this plan. Which is why you'll be going with him Tyene." He smiled.

She nodded in understanding. Jon Snow seemed hesitant at first, but her father swore on his life that she wasn't the greatest fighter, but a master when it came to not only stealth and seduction, but quick thinking. Manipulation was something she learned at a young age. Especially considering she was blessed with her good looks. Men and sometimes women were easily tempted by sexuality. And men rarely knew how to flaunt it compared to women.

"Have you spoken to Snow yet sister?" Obarra questioned seriously.

She shook her head. "He is as he speaks. He enjoys being alone. I've only seen him speak to his family. Other than that he has been like a shadow. Follows around people quietly in daylight and at night he is nowhere to be found."

"Good, perhaps he isn't over his head with this idea of his. Hopefully this will give us a chance to take the rock swiftly while gaining Lord Tywin's attention." Oberyn hummed to himself.

"You'll leave at dawn Tyene, learn all you can about this Jon Snow. He may end up being a bigger player than most people realize." Oberyn smirked at her.

Tyene nodded, 'Oh, he's a big player alright. And I plan to see just how good he can play.' She thought walking off to her tent.

* * *

Talisa Maegyr

She was thrilled for Robb the moment word got out that his brother was alive and well. Even more so that he was returning to him. If there was anyone that deserved a part of their family back to them it was him. When she first met him he seemed only to care about seeking the boy king's death at his hands. She was being dumb in a way, she hadn't known Lord Eddard her now late good father. The story of who he was and why he was executed was sad to hear. Before she met Robb, there was talk of the pure insanity that was the Baratheon boy king on the throne. He apparently had offered Ned Stark a plea deal. One where he would admit his past declarations of treason so he would be sent off to the Night's Watch.

Tying it all together from what Robb had said to her of his love for honor and respect it seemed far fetched. Why would someone who held honor in such a renounce his claims about Joffrey being the bastard offspring between Jamie Lannister and Cersei Lannister. Why not tell the truth no matter how the outcome would fall. But hearing the stories of King's Landing from Sansa recently. She knew why. Lord Eddard Stark wanted the Night's Watch sentence not for himself, but to save his daughters from torment. If Lord Eddard was not executed, the North would not seek war. Or at the very least there could have been a more peaceful way of finding retribution. Lord Eddard gave up his honor to save his family. And now that Robb was given a part of his family back she felt truly happy for him.

That was until she heard of where he had returned from. The stories she heard as a little girl of Pajan and what forces were stationed in those lands. They were frightening sure. But most passed it off as tall tales to scare children. Her father would tell her that all the time when she would run to him in the middle of the night scared of the stories she heard from the dock workers.

Her father would say "The man Raj Il Son was only a myth, and Pajan itself has never been truly confirmed by anyone. Even the traders who say they have been there for their work won't give any details of it. Talisa I promise it has no basis for reality my child."

But now the stories were back, and the teller was her husband's brother.

"Are you alright Lady Talisa?" Sansa's concerning eyes locked with hers. What was she to say?

'I'm sorry my lady. I know he just saved your life, but your half brother mentioned living in a place that send chills and terrors through the mind of every child from Volantis.' She rolled her eyes privately.

"I'm okay my lady, If i may?" She gestured to continue, to which her beautiful good sister smiled and gestured for her to speak.

"I feel I know nothing of your brother Jon Snow, Robb hardly mentioned him at all until word got out that he spoke and gathered the Dornish under the Northern Banner. Could you tell me about him?"

Sansa seemed to freeze for a short moment, almost as if she was considering her options. Talisa glanced subtly over to Lady Stark. She was incredibly quiet. Understandably of course.

After a short moment Sansa seemed to sense the pause and broke it. "It's hard to put into words someone you value and treasure so much, but treated so terribly your whole life. Jon was always viewed as apart of the Stark household. But not apart of the family. I and my mother-" Sansa nodded to Catelyn slowly across the table.

"We both treated Jon as an outcast. Even after all of that Jon returned and saved me from the clutches of hell." Sansa glanced down at what she was working on. She curiously caught glance of it. A dark black looking garment of some kind.

"I'm just glad Jon is just like father, he holds honor and family higher than grudges. No matter how rightful the grudge is." Sansa almost seemed to tear up at that.

The last thing she wanted was to make the girl cry. From what she heard through the rumors and stories that surfaced, this young girl was a survivor. Someone who experienced hell at the clutches of a psychotic young king who tortured and broke her down at every occasion. She wanted to find out about this Jon Snow to protect Robb, not bring his little sister to tears.

"I apologize Lady Sansa, my question wasn't to cause you any pain or hurt. I merely was curious if your brother told you of his ventures. I for one became very curious when he mentioned the land he had spent so much time in." Talisa grasped the young girls hand comfortingly.

Sansa looked up and nodded. "I was curious of that as well." Sansa smiled.

"I paid little attention to Jon as a child, but I do remember him being skilled even for his age with a blade in his hand." Sansa rested her chin in her hand. "Whatever he learned in Pajan was lengths beyond what Ser Roderick taught in the training yards in Winterfell."

Her eyes widened just a bit. "What do you mean?" She asked. Her grip on Sansa's hand loosened to avoid questioning as to why she was becoming nervous.

Lady Catelyn seemed to become interested as well. "When Jon came that night and rescued me from King's Landing they had guards posted all throughout the halls of the red keep. Including one of Joffrey's King's Kingsguard Ser Meryn Trant." Sansa shuddered from what Talisa could tell.

"I didn't really get a good look at how he was able to make it past all of the soldiers, but I did see Ser Meryn against the wall outside my door. He was killed without any form of struggle or fight." Sansa said proudly.

She nodded. Whatever view she had of this conspiracy playing in her mind. She couldn't blame the girl for being somewhat happy. Even mentioning the name of Meryn Trant was enough to cause her some form of distress. Lady Catelyn looked on disturbed. Probably by the fact her daughter had to see such a sight.

"Your brother must be a brave man. To take on a Kingsguard and live to tell the tale." Talisa added with a smile.

Sansa nodded quickly. "He doesn't like to talk much of fighting. Even when I asked how he did it he seemed very humble of it all. But if you get a chance, maybe you could tend to any wounds he has on him before he embarks on this plan of his." Sansa said almost rolling her eyes. It was obvious she didn't want him going back out to fight again.

She understood. Even before the war began she hated seeing all the effects of violence around her. The loss of sons and daughters at the clutches of war.

"I'll take a look before he leaves. I promise." She said with a smile. That seemed to give Sansa some form of relief.

But didn't provide her with any. She just prayed that her father was right, and the stories of Pajan were nothing more than stories to frighten children.

* * *

Jon Snow

Time with his family seemed to be something he couldn't get enough of. He certainly learned that time was something worth far more than anything this world has to offer. Time was something that had complete control over everything. Whether that be war, gold, success, failure, and life. Jon never felt regret. Not for leaving Winterfell. Not for joining the league. Not even for saying goodbye to Lord Stark. If he could go back and do it all over he would still do things exactly the same.

All his choices, even the ones he sometimes questioned, were the choices that made him the man he was today. Did he wish he could see Lord Eddard Stark one last time? Of course. But who would he be if he didn't go through the league's neglect to tell him what happened to his uncle? He certainly would have left before his training was complete, and he would have left the league to their own devices. That thought sent terror throughout his body. They would have destroyed thousands of lives seeking out their goals. But time would not have it. And whatever time he had left on this earth he would spend it living without any regret.

"Your too predictable." Jon reached down to pull his brother off the ground. Robb grasped it tightly giving Jon a playful glare. He spent the last few hours of daylight drilling his brother on combat with a blade. The outcome was surprising to the onlookers. Robb was sweating quite profusely, still trying to catch his breath.

"Too predictable? I felt like I had to change everything I learned since we were children just to keep up." Robb chuckled in between pants.

Jon returned his chuckle. One of the servants brought over two cups of water for them which he nodded thankfully for. Jon sipped his slowly allowing the cool sensation to fill his dry mouth up. While Robb downed his in one go.

"You don't have to throw away any fundamentals of swordsmanship, but learning to adapt and change your style will change a good swordsman to a great one." Jon said sipping his water.

Robb laughed. "How did you learn how to fight like that? You were always good when we were younger. But, this was on a whole different scale."

"I learned how to fight from a man named Ducard he was the leader of the mercenary group. He taught me everything I know." Jon glanced across the yard.

Apparently Robb wasn't the only person impressed by his display. A group of northerners and men from Dorne had watched from the sidelines. Each of them with impressed and stunned by what they saw. One in particular watched him with great interest. Prince Oberyn's daughter.

To say she was beautiful would be an understatement. She had approached Jon quite confidently before. Jon wasn't ready for the attention but at the moment he wasn't looking for what he and Arianne ended up doing in the past. Sure she looked incredibly stunning and fun. She certainly would be someone he'd find himself attracted to. But, he was to leave tomorrow and apparently Prince Oberyn talked him into allowing her to go with him.

Jon had refused at first, telling him he worked alone. Oberyn persisted and Jon agreed only if she listened to his instructions. The last thing he needed was to be distracted. His goal was to take the Rock quickly and to do so he needed to be ready. Flirtation and a lustful mind would only hinder his thoughts and tactics.

"It seems you have a following brother." Robb smirked seeing the Dornish girl eyeing Jon like a piece of spiced meat.

He rolled his eyes. "That's the last thing I need right now. I leave at sun down."

Robb nodded in understanding, still smirking at Jon's discomfort.

"Robb, I was told by your sister that Lord Jon here could use a set of eyes on some ailments before he leaves tonight." Jon turned to see Lady Talisa who seemed to be eyeing him like a hawk.

Robb chuckled. "Your husband is struck down in the training yard and you wish to treat the man who does the swinging?"

Lady Talisa simply deadpanned. "You were using blunted blades. As I recall Lord Jon wanted to avoid a sparring session with you all together."

Jon smiled. "Just Jon is fine my queen. Lord Jon Snow sounds like a jest does it not?"

Robb looked between the two. "Take him to the tent and see that he's ready for his journey. We wouldn't want him less than one hundred percent for his endeavors now would we?" Robb bumped his shoulder against Jon.

"You wouldn't want to see me at one hundred percent my king." Jon needled.

Robb quickly kissed his wife on the cheek and grabbed their training swords to put away. "Fuck off brother, allow my wife the courtesy of examination. If there is anything wrong before you go on this hairbrained mission of yours, she'll know." He gestured to Lady Talisa before making his way to the armory.

Jon nodded nervously. "After you my queen." She walked towards the middle of camp awaiting him to follow.

She seemed quite nervous from what Jon could gather. The moment they started walking her steps were clumsy. Normally Jon would attribute that to someone's physical awkwardness. But, he saw her reaction to the conversation that was brought up over his whereabouts. The way her eyes would follow his every move. Then he mentioned Pajan and her entire demeanor shifted. She went from curious to shaken.

They made their way into the small healer tent. There were small beds all lined up in a row down an aisle with a makeshift desk sitting in the corner. The desk had a multitude of healing equipment to jars filled with substances he assumed were concoctions like milk of the poppy.

"Sit down wherever you like and remove your tunic. Your sister noticed you would rarely seek medical help whenever you were to receive a wound, so I assume you haven't been properly tended to in a long time." Talisa stated grabbing a roll of gauze with a needle and thread.

Jon nodded dumbly plopping himself down on the bed closest to the desk. If she were to look at his chest she would most likely be moving back and forth if he were to sit anywhere else. He sighed. This wasn't what he had in mind but he quietly removed his tunic, and judging by the look of surprise evident on Talisa's features this would be longer than she originally thought.

"I'll take your look to mean I should have seeked out a maester over the years." Jon chuckled trying to get a laugh out of her to no avail.

She huffed. "I doubt even a maester would be able to tend to every single scar I see. He would be a busy man if that were true." She looked him over and her eyes seemed to fixate on his tattoo. It wasn't very subtle.

"I don't know if you are just ignorant to your own health or uncaring, but your chest and stomach is almost completely covered in scar tissue." She ran her hand over the top portion of his ribs down to his abs.

"There are bones that have either been broken or minor fractures that haven't healed properly." She paused to gauge his reaction.

Jon nodded. He knew of course. His training with the league was always brutal and severe in practice. Broken bones, bruises, scars they were nothing but bumps on the path. Healing only came from rest and minor potions meant to dull the pain. Any amount of bed rest longer than a day was only viewed as a hindrance and a weakness to the league.

"Did they not have skilled healers in Pajan?" She asked calmly as she viewed his back for any more ailments.

"They did, but it was a rarity. When you fight under the tutelage of mercenaries your objective is to complete missions not heal wounds that could be ignored no matter how painful it could be." Jon shivered as she ran her hand across his back. She traced one of the burn marks left from his escape from the temple that he burned down. Her hands were freezing and quite clammy.

"Well from what I can see there isn't much I can do regarding the bone fractures. They have all healed despite the breakage. They could eventually cause damage to your body later in life, especially with the bone deformity. But, I can at least add some salve to your scars so they may at least cause you less pain." She grabbed a glass jar from the desk and slid a wooden spoon inside to coat it.

Jon tensed as the salve was added to his chest. It was cold, but soothing.

"What is the meaning behind that tattoo?" She asked curiously still coating his vast amount of scars across his chest.

This was what Jon was afraid of. It was now clear she had some unanswered questions regarding his whereabouts. He would normally dismiss a question regarding his marking. Not many people in these lands would even consider a tattoo. But, the way she asked the question and how she studied his every move was a clear sign this question was to gain information rather than make small talk.

"It is a blue flower found in the mountains of Pajan. Every man who joins the group of fighters that I accompanied was required to receive it on their chest. It symbolizes overcoming fear."

She frowned. Swiping the last bit onto his shoulder.

"Forgive me for all the questions, but overcoming fear? To what purpose does that play for a sell sword?" She asked grabbing the bandages from the top of her desk.

"Being afraid is in every man or woman. To overcome fear and harness it is to be something else entirely." Jon answered. He normally wouldn't speak so much about the core principles of the league, but he wanted to get to the bottom of her nervous attitude. Otherwise he would have made up some tale of how his tattoo was just an exciting souvenir from a foreign land.

"If I may be open with you my queen, why do you seem so troubled around me? Is it just the tattoo? Or have I done something to put you in distress?" Jon looked up to study her reaction.

She seemed reluctant to answer. Her hands were shaking just a bit, while her eyes seemed to frantically look around as though someone could be eavesdropping.

"It isn't anything against you my lor- Jon." She quickly corrected herself. "When I was a little girl living in Volantis, the traders who would travel all over the world would tell stories of Pajan. Stories of a group of fighters there who were said to be straight out of nightmares. We were told they were nothing but stories to frighten us. Most people didn't even believe in Pajan's existence. I certainly didn't place my faith in them. Till you came here and told us that is where you've been after all these years away from Westeros." She strapped a bandage to Jon's chest covering up the salve still wet.

Jon nodded in understanding. 'So my instincts were correct'

"What were the stories you were told? I'm sure I could answer if they were to be true or not." Jon countered.

She stepped back and looked directly into Jon's eyes. "I was told of a secret society of assassins. Men of renown fighting ability and who were trained to kill from the safety of darkness. This society was led by a man named Raj, he was said to be some sort of God. Someone who couldn't be killed, a monster who had the power of immortality. He brought down empires, while remaining hidden to the naked eye. Some people would even say he and this group of fighters were the reason Valaryia was wiped from the map. I was nervous because I feared tha-"

"That my loyalty was to the league of shadows." Jon finished for her.

She backed away. Ready to flee at the first sign of trouble. But Jon rose from the bed and held his hand out to stop her. She froze.

He didn't want to frighten her. He respected her. He barely knew her, but anyone who could win his brother's heart was worth giving respect to. Normally he would make up some lie about what he had been up to since his departure of Winterfell. But, this girl wasn't some gullible fool. It would be better to be honest and upfront and perhaps she would feel more at ease knowing his allegiance remained with the Starks.

"My queen. I promise not to lie to you, mainly because I know if I were to tell you anything but the truth you wouldn't believe me. Stories such as that strike fear into the hearts of every person. Not just children. Sure most will laugh it off as mere tall tales. But deep down if those tales became reality they would feel the same fear as every child across Essos."

Jon urged her to sit. He looked to the entrance of the tent to make sure they were alone.

"The stories you heard were by design. You must be more than just a man in the eyes of your enemy. The league had gained a reputation through centuries of fighting, planning, and execution. Those stories you heard only increased the league's power."

This is where everything would change. He trusted her. Normally he didn't trust anyone with this information. But judging by the look on her face she already knew what he was about to say. He just hoped this wouldn't somehow backfire on him.

"The stories you were told aren't merely fiction. The league did exist. Raj Il Son as well. Though the stories took on a mind of their own, the main plot does ring true."

Talisa seemed to calm down enough to sit down, Jon followed suit.

"Did exist? Do they not anymore?" She asked.

She seemed hopeful. Then again, he would be too. If he didn't train with them, and gain insight to the inner workings of the league's business. He would be just as hopeful to hear of their death as anyone.

Jon shook his head. "I left Westeros to find some semblance of myself. I stumbled upon Pajan and came in contact with a man named Ducard. He introduced me to the league, I learned everything I know today from them. They taught me how to embrace my fears and confront them. I am the man I am today because of the league. Raj Il Son and the league are dead. They seeked to destroy civilization across Westeros and for that I burnt down their temple along with the members of the league. Raj Il Son along with the rest of the league burned with it."

Jon finished. Her mouth was agape. 'She probably wasn't expecting me to tell her all of this' Jon thought.

If the conversation wasn't so serious he probably would have laughed at her expression.

"If you learned everything from the league then why come back? Why not execute whatever plan they concocted?" She croaked out.

She still was hesitant to trust him. He understood. Why trust a trained assassin? It was smart if she didn't. Though through the fear and nervousness oozing from her tone he still detected a tinge of hope. Hope that the league was gone forever and the stories that frightened children would forever be just that. Stories. He only wished the stories he was told as a young child by Old Nan were that.

Jon smiled. "The league taught me how to conquer my fears, but I learned honor, respect, and decency from Lord Eddard Stark. The league wasn't my family, and I'd be damned if the league ever were to destroy my family."

That seemed to be enough for her. At least in regard to trusting his intentions.

"Will you tell Robb?" She whispered out.

Jon nodded. "When the dust settles from this war and my family has gained justice, I will tell Robb the truth of where I've been. But for now I ask that you keep this under wraps."

She nodded quickly. Understanding that such a secret would only cloud the mind and judgement of the King in the North. This war would take every amount of brain power along with one's physical capacity. Robb couldn't hear such a tale. It would only give the Lannisters an edge if the King in the North was preoccupied with something as convoluted as this on his mind.

"You have my word."

And with that she finished bandaging Jon up. She felt a lot more at ease now. Jon didn't want to disclose his former allegiance to anyone. But Talisa was a good woman, she just wanted to make sure Jon wasn't some assassin waiting to take her husband from her. They talked as she finished up her inspection. She was exactly what Robb needed in his life. A strong but independent woman who wasn't afraid to speak her mind and protect that which was hers. He only hoped if the Gods were kind he would find himself someone similar in this life. Someone who would love and protect him regardless of the past, regardless of who he was.

"You can take off the bandages before you leave today. It's strange knowing what I know now, I feel much more safe knowing my husband has you by his side." She smiled hesitantly.

"But I swear to you, if you even so much as hint at betraying Robb. There isn't a league of assassins anywhere that could save you."

"I guess we'll see then." Jon smirked.

She looked ready to piss her pants in fright. Jon laughed at her expression of pure fear.

She glared at him. "That wasn't funny."

Jon continued to laugh "Yes it was, you seemed ready to use those tools to bludgeon me."

Her glare dropped and she chuckled along with him. "I maybe a healer, but I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty when my husband is at stake." She threw his tunic over to him which he quickly put on through his snorts.

"Your husband and you will always have my protection, that I promise you my lady." He stopped his chuckles to show just how serious he was.

"Robb is a lucky man to gain such a woman who would do anything for him."

She smiled. "Robb and your entire family is lucky to have a brother like you. I may not have known your father, but from the stories I've heard of him, I can tell you he would be happy and proud to know his son never forgot his family back home. No matter who he was trained by."

Jon shook his head. "I doubt that. No matter what good deeds I accomplished to protect my family the shadow of the league will always remain apart of me. My lord father wouldn't be so forgiving of that."

"I beg to differ. If it wasn't for you his daughter. Your sister wouldn't be the same. She is beginning to gain some form of who she used to be. She seems happy. For that alone your father would be proud. Perhaps the road you took to get here wasn't so honorable. But it isn't always about the journey as it is about the final destination."

Jon looked down. "Thank you my lady."

She patted his shoulder on her way out of the tent. "No. Thank you Jon Snow."

* * *

Lord Baelish

King's Landing was in quite a bit of turmoil at the moment. The city was now slowly healing from the attack from Stannis Baratheon, while the Lannisters were up in arms over the betrayal conducted by the Martell family. If he wasn't so busy with the tasks appointed to him he would bask in the pure delight of chaos flooding the red keep.

It seemed the Starks had chosen the right family to align themselves with. Robb Stark now had the Dornish army and fleet at his disposal. Currently they were preparing for a siege on Casterly Rock. A siege that could last quite sometime if history were the judge of things. Lord Tywin was currently planning an assault on the Stark and Dornish, while the king remained aloof to the danger currently being perpetuated throughout his own wall.

His employer was right from the beginning. With the great houses at war with each other, the Iron throne was easy pickings.

"Ah Lord Baelish, I was wondering when you would make face."

He turned his head swiftly to see King Joffrey enter his solar. Two king's guard following quickly behind him.

'On time as usual' he suppressed an eye roll.

He had requested an audience with the boy king the moment he returned to King's Landing. The plan would start and end with this Lannister bastard.

He stood from his chair out of respect. "Your grace. It is an honor and a pleasure to see the young king who led his people to victory over his usurper uncle." Lord Baelish smiled cunningly.

Joffrey sat down grabbing the chair behind the desk. Normally he would object to giving up his seat of what little power he had managed to grab since his beginnings in this foul city. But, it would be an insult to a boy king who didn't take such slights so forgivingly.

"Get on with it my lord, a king is always busy and you're lucky I answered your call to begin with." He glared sharply at the mockingbird.

He smirked. "Of course your grace. Wine? I acquired a shipment of arbour gold straight from the vineyard. Perhaps one of the last fresh tasting barrels before winter strikes us. Best avoid Dornish red."

The king nodded waving his hand gesturing for him to pour the boy a glass. 'Perfect' he thought.

Perhaps this would be easier than he thought. Luckily the contents of the wine would have little effect on him. Developing such an immunity to the ground up contents his employer had given him. He was told to take small amounts of whatever rose they had sent him as some form for an antidote. But the boy would not be so lucky. He poured him a large glass and as time passed the boy had begged him for a barrel of wine which he gave him with pleasure. Raj Il Son would be pleased. The boy would begin to feel the effects within the hour. Making his worst fears come to light. And the beginnings of their plans taking shape.

Chaos was a ladder, and according to Raj once the chaos began, the top of his ladder would be the throne. Let the game of thrones truly begin.


End file.
